Flare Signal
by achieving elysium
Summary: AU. Midoriya Izuku shouldn't be surprised he ended up like this: hiding the secret of One for All from his own father, the notorious villain Dragon. The path to being a hero is a hard one. Or; Izuku is an aspiring hero forced to work for his father's villain organization. Then he runs into All Might. COMPLETE.
1. Chapter 1

**Flare Signal**  
achieving elysium

* * *

Villainry, as Izuku's father liked to say, ran in the blood. It liked to stalk in the shadows and hook its claws into you when you least expected it. It liked to remind Izuku specifically that he could never really _be_ a hero the way he'd always dreamed of.

Instead Izuku found himself hunting a hero.

Izuku flicked his gaze towards a nearby store window, surreptitiously finding the reflection of the man in black. The hero paused on a corner and then disappeared into an alley. Izuku waited until the man had left his line of sight before he palmed his phone, opening his messages.

The most recent one had come from Hisashi, sent only half an hour ago. Izuku had missed it.

 _Come back by five. We have matters to discuss._

"Shit," he muttered. He still had an hour, but he'd have to head back soon.

Izuku glanced toward the alleyway where the hero had disappeared into. He hesitated, not sure if he should follow.

It was too risky, Izuku decided. He hadn't been able to glean any information from following the underground hero all day, and he wasn't likely to get any more. Knowing his luck, he'd probably get caught.

Izuku sighed, turning on his heel and going in the opposite direction. He flipped through the pages of his notebook idly, scanning the faces of pro heroes. _Endeavor. Weaknesses. Present Mic. Weaknesses._ _Red Wing. Makeshift. Thornhead._

He flipped to a new page and began to scribble in it as he walked.

 _Name: unknown_

"Watch it!" someone snapped, and Izuku yelped, apologizing even as he continued writing.

 _Quirk: unknown - activated with the eyes? Lasers?_

 _Appearance/costume: typical of an underground hero. Dresses in black. Inconspicuous-_

Then Izuku was on the ground, staring at the sky. A dull pain sparked in his arms, and he pushed himself up.

He'd run into someone, it seemed. Izuku was up in an instant. He looked around, and his heart sunk. The sidewalk was a mess, covered in what looked like groceries. Its owner stood crookedly on the sidewalk, rubbing his chest and blinking like he, too, wasn't quite sure what had just happened.

"Sorry!" Izuku yelped, scrambling for the things on the ground. "Sorry, sorry, sir, I wasn't paying attention…"

The man laughed. It was a nice sound; it made the pulsing anxiety in Izuku's chest settle slightly.

"No, no, my boy," the stranger said, "it's my fault."

The man was tall and rather gaunt, with wild, blonde hair that reminded Izuku of a lion's mane. He was smiling, though, and Izuku had the thought that this man was strangely familiar even though he was sure they'd never met.

"Let me help you," Izuku said, grabbing a box off the ground. He scooped up a few more items despite the man's protest. One of the plastic bags had ripped, and Izuku frowned at the thought of carrying all of the groceries without one.

"Where are you headed?" Izuku asked before he could stop himself. "I can carry them for you."

The man slung the untorn over his arm before bending over again.

"Is this your notebook?"

"Oh! Yes-"

"Here, we can switch."

"Really," Izuku protested. The man cocked his head at the notebook, suddenly curious.

"Aspiring hero?"

Izuku ducked his head, blushing. "A- ah, yeah! It's, um, it's my dream to help people."

The man studied whichever page he'd landed on and then shut Izuku's notebook, nodding.

"A good cause," he murmured, more to himself than Izuku. Then he brightened. "Well in that case, carrying my groceries can be training, eh?"

Izuku grinned.

They made small talk on the trip. Yagi Toshinori was a secretary at a small hero agency, but he was training to be a teacher in the upcoming school year. He was enthusiastic and exuded a sort of light Izuku felt lucky to be in. Yagi regaled him with tales of heroes and villains alike, careful to leave out names but still managing to leave Izuku gasping in delight. He seemed interested in Izuku, too, glancing down at the notebook every now and then like what Izuku had written had caught his eye.

"Applying to U.A., young Akatani?"

The name sounded strange. Izuku didn't have a chance to use it often, but it was a name he kept for situations like this, to keep from being recognized.

"Mm, I don't know…"

Yagi gestured with an arm, and Izuku ducked underneath it, grateful for his instincts.

"You won't apply to U.A.?"

Izuku shrugged, shifting his cargo in his arms. "My… my parents might not let me."

Yagi frowned, looking off into the distance. The two of them slipped under a bridge and fell into shadow.

"They think it's dangerous?"

Izuku couldn't help but snort. Sending Izuku into U.A.—Izuku, who was tied to villains, who _was_ (kind of) a villain, and who could be caught in a matter of minutes? Chimera would never entertain the thought.

"Something like that," Izuku mumbled.

"What's your Quirk, young Akatani?" Yagi asked.

Izuku had stopped paying attention. Something lurked on the edge of his senses, and Izuku stopped where he was.

"Uh," Izuku said. He wanted to reach for the knife strapped at his side, but Izuku found his hands full.

Yagi seemed to sense that something was wrong, too. The two exchanged a look and stepped back towards the safe light of day when something _moved_ in the corner of Izuku's eye. A shadow detached itself from the sewer grate, then shifted along the wall. A pair of eyes blinked at them and narrowed.

Izuku recognized the look in the thing's eyes; he'd seen it before. Hunger. The kind of crawling hunger that got under the skin, that seared in the belly.

"Oh," a warbled voice said. "Hello."

Izuku's mind was already racing. Yagi was behind him, a strangled noise having torn through his teeth. _Protect._ The open air behind them. _Exit._ The danger looming above him, drawing closer and closer. _Enemy._

"Yagi," Izuku said in a low voice, dropping the groceries and holding a hand back towards the man. "Run."

Before the man behind him could react, Izuku jerked his knife from its sheath and threw himself forward, aiming for the heart of the dark mass in front of him.

It was a mistake.

"— _wait!_ "

Yagi's voice was muffled and distant. Something _thick_ and viscous was wrapping around Izuku, and he was reminded of a time he'd fallen into a ditch, the bottom muddy and deeper than it'd seemed.

He kicked, clawing wildly with his hands to part the sludge that was suffocating him.

"Don't fight," a voice croaked in his ear. "You'll make a great host… don't worry, it'll be over before you know it."

The words only served to make Izuku struggle harder.

"Let _go_ ," Izuku gasped before the sludge surged around him. It pushed against his mouth, and Izuku pressed his lips together desperately even though his lungs were beginning to burn.

A feeling registered through the panic: a hilt clutched between his fingers. Izuku fought against the sludge and found himself pulling free, surfacing. He gasped for air, blinking sludge from his eyes; a moment later, his hand followed.

Izuku gritted his teeth and rammed backwards and up, aiming in the direction of the villain's eyes—

"Clever," the villain mused, catching his wrist. "Stop fighting, little one."

"Let the boy go."

Izuku jerked his head in the direction of the voice. Yagi hadn't run like Izuku had thought he was going to. In the hazem Izuku had forgotten the man had even been there, and it seemed the sludge villain had, too.

"What are you going to do about it?"

Yagi's hand curled into a fist by his side, and his eyes narrowed.

It occured to Izuku then that Yagi hardly looked like a secretary at all, nor the forgiving stranger Izuku had ran into on the street. He still carried that bright light in him, but instead of moonlight through the trees Izuku felt he was staring right into the sun.

Yagi smiled, and somewhere Izuku recognized it. He suddenly knew what was going to happen before it did.

"This," he said, and then there he was, framed by the light behind him. Izuku's childhood idol, his hero, the person Izuku had always dreamed would save him with a smile.

All Might.

"Oh," the sludge villain said, "that wasn't what I was expecting. That's not—"

"Let the boy go," All Might said. "I won't ask again."

The sludge villain faltered and then threw himself over Izuku.

He screamed. Something rushed into his mouth. Darkness pulled over his eyes, and Izuku fought with everything he had.

Maybe it would be too late. Maybe the villain would take his body or suffocate him to death.

 _All Might_ , he thought, and fought a little longer.

"It's alright, young man," All Might said. " _TEXAS SMASH!_ "

Nothing.

"Hey."

Izuku blinked.

"Hey, hey."

There was a man standing over him, poking Izuku's cheek cautiously.

" _Oh_ ," Izuku cried, sitting up and wrapping his arms around himself. He stared at All Might with wide eyes, and All Might looked back in concern.

"Oh," Izuku said again.

He'd been completely useless as it turned out. He'd meant to protect Yagi and then had ended up needing saving. By Yagi. _Who_ _was All Might._

"You're?" Izuku managed to stammer out after a moment of trying to find words. He had held a conversation with _All Might._ He'd even carried _All Might's groceries_. Even the number one hero needed groceries.

All Might nodded.

"I'm sorry I didn't act sooner. I was afraid of hurting you."

Izuku shook his head, wordless.

"I'll have to turn this in." All Might held up a soda bottle—filled, it seemed, with sludge. Izuku's throat ached at the sight.

"Of course," All Might continued, gesturing to himself, "this is a secret, do you understand."

Izuku nodded frantically. He found his knife on the ground and slipped it back into its sheath on his waistband. Its presence—combined with All Might—made him feel safer than he had in a long time.

All Might suddenly sighed, like the bravado had drained out of him. With his free hand, he lifted his shirt up to expose a gaping wound, an angry red in the center that spiderwebbed outwards.

Izuku gasped at the sight, shooting to his feet, but All Might continued.

"An old injury, sustained from a fight from five years ago," he said grimly. "Half my respiratory system and my stomach gone. This body… I've grown _weak_."

"No," Izuku whispered, meeting All Might's eyes. "I don't think you're weak at all."

All Might sighed again. "I can only do hero work for three hours a day, now. I can't sustain my power for longer."

"Three…?"

 _Weakness_ , something dark and poisonous whispered in Izuku's mind. _Weakness, weakness, weak._

Izuku wanted to forget. Wanted to walk away—not to turn his back on his hero, but to keep that precious knowledge free from the Izuku's blood and bones. The secret would stay there, a strange pulsing thing like a heart, something that could not be exposed to darkness.

"What kind of villain was it?" Izuku dared. He was shaking. "To have done _this_ …"

"One you will never meet." All Might put the bottle in his pocket. "But I am still a hero. I am still the Symbol of Peace, and I will continue to save people with a smile. I cannot be daunted by evil."

Izuku wasn't sure when he'd started crying, only knew that there were tears pooling in the corner of his eye.

"Here," All Might said, picking something up off the ground. It was Izuku's notebook, opened to a blank page. All Might's name was scrawled across it.

"A-All Might…"

He took the notebook numbly.

"Can I—can, can I ask you a question?" Izuku blurted. All Might inclined his head.

"Do you think I can be a hero?" Izuku asked. "Can I be a hero if I've done bad things?"

All Might laughed. "We all have, young man. We're only human in the end, but it is a hero who chooses to continue beyond them, to strive to do good. Don't let your mistakes define you or you will never win."

He touched Izuku's shoulder briefly, and Izuku thought then that he would remember All Might's words for the rest of his life.

"And when someone needs help…," All Might said, looking out towards the other side of the bridge, "...do not stand still."

Izuku wiped at his eyes and nodded. "I won't."

Then he looked at the mess around him, a distant thought registering.

"Uh, All Might? Do you still need those groceries?"

Izuku and All Might— _Yagi_ , he pressed, when Izuku had almost blurted out the wrong name—returned to the small convenience store to re-buy All Might's groceries. The cashier gave them strange looks but said nothing else.

"This is where we part," All Might said, two bags on his arm as he patted the pocket where the sludge villain was held. "Thank you for your help today."

"I didn't do anything," Izuku mumbled.

All Might offered him a smile. "You did more than you think. Good luck, young man."

Before Izuku could think to say another word, the man was gone, disappearing into the crowds of people. It wasn't hard to find him, a tall, wild-haired figure in the chaos, so Izuku watched him until he was gone from sight.

That was the only time he'd probably ever meet All Might: in an encounter with a villain, and he'd been useless.

Had All Might been right, though? Izuku turned the thought over in his mind as he trudged back. Could Izuku still be a hero, when villainry clotted his veins?

It didn't matter, Izuku decided, because he wasn't sure he'd ever be able to escape his father's clutches anyway.

Izuku kicked a rock and watched it skid across the sidewalk. He hated the bubbling warmth in his chest: hope, that one day what All Might had said could be true.

He'd keep that hope. Maybe he'd be able to do something with it.

If Kacchan had heard his thoughts, he would've exploded. _I'm going to be Number One_ , he'd say, right in Izuku's face. _The hell are you going to be, shitty Deku? Useless?_

It was his own way of pushing Izuku. It sounded harsh, and the words hurt. But he would've been right—Izuku couldn't quite give up. Not yet, not when All Might had told him he couldn't.

"Huh," Izuku muttered to himself. He checked the time and yelped. Walking with All Might and the encounter with that sludge villain had cut his time in half. Izuku sped up to a light jog.

Then in the distance, he heard a commotion. Screams.

Izuku put his head down and forced himself to keep walking in a different direction, despite the guilt that swamped him.

 _Don't get involved. You'll only cause more trouble for everyone. Don't get involved._

In between the human panic, Izuku heard a strange popping noise. Not quite like gunshots, Izuku thought, slowing down to listen, but the crackle and distant _boom_ like—

"Explosions," Izuku whispered. He knew that sound by heart.

 _Don't get involved_ , Izuku thought desperately. It was too late. His feet were moving: first a slow step, then a jog, and then a flat-out run. He ducked and weaved through the streets, following the clamor of sirens and the thick smoke that had begun to pour out from between two buildings.

What trouble had Kacchan gotten into? What fight had he picked, what person had he upset?

" _Dammit_ ," Izuku snarled. For all that he'd tried to protect Kacchan…

What if it was Chimera? What if that was Hisashi meant by _matters to discuss_?

"No," Izuku gasped, ducking under someone's arm. His throat closed, like someone was wrapping a hand around it to choke him. "No, no, no…"

"Everyone stay back!"

"The fire…"

"That kid! Why aren't the heroes helping?"

Fire surged around the square, no doubt a result of Kacchan's Quirk. At first the scene was so chaotic Izuku couldn't make out what was going on. Smoke made his nose burn and eyes sting. The panic was deafening. At different sides, heroes were working to keep back the fire.

There was Kamui Woods. _Weakness: fire._ There was Mt. Lady, whose debut Chimera had noted just this morning. _Weakness: tight spaces._ Backdraft and Death Arms worked helplessly to keep the danger from spreading.

In the center of it all was Kacchan. Izuku's eyes jerked from the sparks flying from his hands to the dark pitch surrounding him.

"The sludge villain… how…"

He'd escaped somehow. During the trip to the grocery store, maybe, or sometime after. Izuku hadn't even known.

Izuku stretched out a hand and then lowered it—his Quirk was useless against the villain.

 _When someone needs help… do not stand still._

All Might wasn't here, whether he'd missed the action or whether he was out of time. He'd spent the last of his limit saving Izuku, hadn't he?

No one was moving. No one was helping.

 _Useless,_ Izuku thought, trembling. _What the hell are you going to be, Deku?_

"No," Izuku said, and then his body broke free of whatever had frozen him there. He stopped thinking.

" _No,_ " he said again, tearing out of the crowd. Someone screamed.

Kacchan jerked at the sight of movement, and across the din, their eyes met. Kacchan's eyes were wide and blown with— _fear_. He was _scared_.

Izuku's feet pounded against pavement. His hand was moving, drawing his knife before he even realized what he was doing, and then he ran into the flames.

"What are you doing!"

"Get back to safety!"

" _Kid_!"

 _Kacchan_ , Izuku mouthed.

"You again?" the sludge villain laughed.

This time, Izuku didn't aim for his heart. He didn't aim for any part of the black sludge that was clinging to Kacchan, surrounding him and pulling him under. Izuku reached them just as Kacchan disappeared under the sludge, reaching a hand out for help.

This time, Izuku leapt and drove his knife in a sharp arc towards the villain's face. He felt something give under the sharp point, felt a moment of resistance before it slipped easily in, and Izuku let go.

The sludge villain screamed, jerking backwards in pain.

Izuku took the moment and grabbed Kacchan's hand. Fire exploded in his palm, the pressure painful, but Izuku ignored it and _pulled_. Then he was clawing at the sludge though he knew it wouldn't help.

Kacchan gasped for air—" _What the hell"_ —Izuku gritted his teeth, tears pooling his eyes, and refused to let go.

A shadow fell over them.

"It's all right," a heavy voice said, and Izuku and Kacchan both stared up towards All Might's face.

"All Might," Izuku cried.

All Might was smiling. Blood dribbled through his teeth, but he looked at Izuku grimly.

"And to think," he said, blood staining his mouth, "I stood still, and _you_ were the one to move. You ran in with almost nothing, risking your life like any pro hero, while I watched."

All Might drew his arm back, fire reflected in his eyes.

" _DETROIT—_ "

Izuku held on tighter and screwed his eyes shut, covering his face with his free arm. Something warm and wet spattered across his cheek.

"— _SMASH!_ "

A tornado of wind buffeted them, but Izuku found himself held still. All Might lifted Izuku and Kacchan both, curling protectively around them.

Then it was over.

There was a quiet, stunned calm. Izuku let go of Kacchan's arm, and Kacchan stared at him.

 _Do you recognize me?_ Izuku thought dazedly as they were set down. The other pro heroes rushed over. _Do you still recognize your childhood friend?_

"Brave, incredibly brave," a hero told Kacchan, "and such a powerful Quirk. Will you train to be a hero—"

"What were you thinking?" someone asked Izuku. "Running into danger like that!"

"I'm sorry," Izuku said automatically.

Izuku stood up woodenly. He had to leave. He had to leave before the press overwhelmed, or else his pictures would end up in the news. _Someone_ would take notice. _Someone_ could recognize him, even if Izuku had dyed his hair and changed his look. He had to leave.

"Hey!" Kacchan yelled after him.

Izuku walked away feeling numb. He pushed through until he was pressed close to a building, and then waved a hand, activating his Quirk.

He put his head down and slipped away from the scene unseen.

Izuku made it two blocks before he de-activated his Quirk and started crying.

It'd come too close today. Too many _almost_ s and not enough _okay_ s. He wanted someone to hold him, someone who could tell him everything was alright and that he'd done well. The only person who would have probably had no idea what had happened to him.

"Young Akatani! I am here!"

Izuku spun and found All Might bent over, breathing hard.

"Had to outrun the press," he said, straightening. "I wanted to speak to you, but I couldn't find you."

"Yeah, I… left."

"What you did today marked the heart of a true hero!"

Izuku stared. Blinked once. Twice.

"Wh… _what?_ "

All Might waved a hand. "Tell me something. When you saw that young man in danger, what were you thinking?"

"Uh," Izuku said, "I was thinking of doing something really stupid…?"

"No, no," All Might boomed. "What were you truly thinking?"

He thought back to it. He'd thought himself useless, had tried to stay out of it. And then after that, he'd simply stopped thinking and started moving.

"I… didn't," Izuku said finally. "My body just moved."

All Might broke into a smile.

"That is what all heroes say in the beginning. At some point, they stop thinking and simply _act_. In a group of heroes, _you_ were the one to take the first step."

Izuku bowed shakily. "That means… that means so much to me."

All Might wasn't done.

"And for that reason," he announced, "I'd like to give you my Quirk."

 _Give… give Izuku…_

"You… what?"

… _All Might's Quirk._

"Give—give _me_ … that's not even possible! I mean, your Quirk has always been speculated about, but… give away… how, _what?_ Well, I guess if anyone could break the rules of science it would be All Might, I mean, who _else_ can pass on a Quirk—"

"Er, young man," All Might interrupted.

"Right!"

"Will you accept my offer?"

He was clearly expecting Izuku to say yes. And Izuku _wanted_ to. His Quirk was ill-suited to being a hero—maybe underground, but he couldn't fight with it. It wouldn't make enough of a difference.

With All Might's Quirk… Izuku could change the world. He could become the hero he'd always dreamed of.

 _But_ , that voice whispered suddenly, _you? A hero?_

Izuku's fantasizing stopped short. He couldn't accept it. He worked for _villains_ ; he couldn't simply train or do things other aspiring heroes could.

"Young Akatani, I see you hesitate. I won't pressure you. But think… the world could use a hero like you."

 _A hero like you._

Izuku's eyes welled up with tears. How could he refuse?

"Can I… can I think about it?"

All Might's face clouded with slight disappointment, but he seemed to understand.

"Of course," he said, "but not for too long. I need to find a successor soon."

He asked for Izuku's phone and then put his number in under Yagi Toshinori.

"You can contact me with that number," he explained. "Please do not hesitate."

"Y-yeah."

All Might smiled again. "Regardless of whether you accept my offer or not… I think you will make a great hero."

Izuku began to cry freely again. He hadn't said that Izuku _could_ be a hero this time; he'd said Izuku would make a great one with such confidence Izuku would do it.

"Thank you, All Might. Th- thank you…"

He looked at the number in his phone, and his heart pulsed warmly in his chest. Then he saw the time and almost dropped his phone, scrambling to catch it.

"I-I- I have to go! Thank you… thank you, I- ah, I'm going to be _late!_ "

Izuku left All Might in the street and began to run.

The room was quiet when Izuku stumbled in, the only sound the occasional crackling of fire and his heart pounding in his ears. Then he saw the light dancing across the far wall, the ruby tongues of flames in little bursts at the edge of his vision, and finally the man in the chair, nothing more than a dark smudge of ash in the dim light.

Hisashi didn't turn to look at him.

"You're late, Izuku."

Izuku was too busy catching his breath. He bowed hastily.

"S-sorry," Izuku mumbled when he felt like he had enough air in his lungs. "I, um, I got caught up on the way back."

Izuku had met All Might, run into a villain, helped save his childhood friend, and then had been offered All Might's power. _Caught up_ was too simple an explanation.

Hisashi hummed and waved a hand. "How was your hunt?"

Izuku swallowed. "Couldn't follow him. He— I tried every trick I had, but… it was strange. I felt like, well, anyway. I couldn't get close enough to figure out any information or what his Quirk is."

"Hmph," Hisashi grumbled. A pale hand slipped into his pocket to retrieve a knife. "Damn underground heroes. I want you to find his hero name and any information about his Quirk you can get by the end of the week."

"Understood."

"Good. I've got a new mission for you."

Izuku hissed out a breath of air through his teeth. Pro heroes had seen Chimera stir up more and more trouble in the past few years, and Izuku hated thinking about how that was in part _his_ fault.

He did what he could, toeing the line between treason and treachery, but it never felt like enough.

"Well?" Izuku prompted.

The faster he got his next target, the faster he could start planning. How long Izuku could put off giving information, how much of his analysis could stay in his head or come out his mouth, how risky it would be to tip off the police or one of the hero agencies for the third time in two months.

 _Dangerous_ —the last time Izuku had slipped up, Bonestealer had beaten him badly enough he hadn't been able to walk right for a week. He winced at the thought, feeling phantom pain ghost across his body. Izuku had laid low for a while, being more careful than he'd ever been.

"An ongoing mission," Hisashi said coolly, "though we're not sure how long it will take to get the intel we need. A year, maybe less, maybe more."

Izuku swallowed hard and then cleared his throat a few times, wondering if he'd heard right.

"A _year_? Who—"

Who could be so difficult to follow that it would take Izuku a _year_ of research and analysis? The longest Izuku had taken on someone was a month, and that was because his target had had a particularly pesky Quirk that let him slip through darkness unseen. It was hard, after all, to shadow a shadow.

Hisashi laughed to himself. "I think you'll like this one, Izuku," he said. "You're going to be following All Might to look for any weaknesses he has."

Izuku choked.

"All… _All Might_?"

"...Yes," Hisashi said slowly, like he was talking to a child. He spun the thin blade between his fingers idly as he glanced at Izuku. "All Might."

"But-" Izuku started.

The knife stopped spinning. The blade caught scattered orange light, gleaming as Hisashi sighed and sent flames flickering in the air as a warning.

"But what?"

But what? _But what?_

All Might wasn't just a hero. He was… he was everything Izuku wanted to be. He saved people, shining so brightly every time Izuku looked at him he had to avert his eyes, and he saved people with a _smile_.

That was what had stuck with him. Even after all these years, even when Izuku had wanted to give up… he couldn't. Because of All Might.

Who Izuku had met today as Yagi Toshinori. Who Izuku realized, suddenly and painfully, he _already_ knew the weaknesses of.

"He's," Izuku said, realizing he'd been quiet for too long. "He's the Symbol of Peace. Number one pro hero. I- I… he doesn't _have_ any weaknesses for me to find!"

"That's exactly why," a voice drawled from the doorway.

Izuku went still.

"Our… _friends_ heard about your skills, Izuku," Miss Guidance said. She nodded at Hisashi, crossing the room so she could stand between them.

"Friends," Izuku repeated dryly. He had to get out of here - go somewhere he could think, could plan. "We have _friends_."

"Izuku," Hizashi said, voice sharp.

He backed down. Miss Guidance smiled.

It wasn't often that Izuku saw Miss Guidance, but today she looked the same as she always had. Dark hair pinned up and held with gold pieces; an angular, sharp face; grayish, cold eyes that Izuku always felt were looking through him and into him.

"Oh, you know how it is," Miss Guidance said. "We've each got something the other wants. We help them pinpoint All Might's weaknesses, and they help us— well, that would be saying too much."

Izuku whimpered. He couldn't help it.

It was bad enough knowing he had to "find" _All Might_ 's weaknesses. Now, he knew, the stakes would be even higher. It would be hard to withhold information, but it was going to be just as difficult warning everyone.

"Who are our new friends?" Izuku asked, a little breathless. "Do I get to know?"

Hisashi exchanged a look with Miss Guidance.

"In time," Hisashi promised.

Miss Guidance reached into the folds of her coat and handed over a thin manila folder. Izuku flipped it open, his heart constricting painfully when he saw All Might's face. There was a small, square photo of All Might clipped to a few briefs about what information Izuku was expected to find. Behind it was a thin, blank notebook with a pen stuck on the cover. It was clear what they wanted him to use it for.

Izuku's hands were shaking as he shut the folder, holding it close to his chest.

He didn't dare leave the room yet, not without permission, but he wanted to bolt. Izuku wanted to run far, far away, wanted to leave this sorry life behind.

Miss Guidance flicked a hand, and a golden coin appeared in her hand. She began to flip it idly, tossing it in the air and catching it every few seconds. Izuku hated when she did that, but he always found himself watching. It was the only tick Izuku knew she had, a tell from an otherwise well-crafted and unreadable demeanor.

"Do be careful," she told him. "I would hate to see you caught by your favorite hero."

"Understood," Izuku whispered. His eyes burned.

Hisashi nodded. "You're dismissed."

Izuku fled the moment the words left Hisashi's mouth.

He bolted to his room, shutting the door and letting his legs collapse under him.

"Breathe," Izuku whispered, trying frantically to calm his racing heart. He squeezed the folder tightly. "It's okay, it's gonna be okay, it's just— it's okay."

The mantra didn't help him much. He'd already started crying. Izuku gripped the folder tighter and then threw it to the ground when he realized it wasn't helping, either.

The folder slid across the room, papers and notebook scattering in the small space and skidding to a stop at the foot of his bed. Izuku sniffled, wiping at his eyes and crawled the short distance to his bed, careful not to crumple any papers.

He pushed aside his covers and reached under his bed, moving aside a few boxes to find the floorboard he'd loosened himself. Izuku lifted it by feel, pressing a wet cheek to the ground as his fingers searched for the small plastic box he'd hidden.

Izuku fished it out and sat up, still crying. He glanced at the door, putting a hand over his mouth to muffle his own noise so he could listen to his surroundings. There didn't seem to be anyone outside his door, so Izuku opened the box.

Inside was a set of five All Might figurines. The sight made a strange warmth fill his chest, but it hurt, too.

When his father had first come to take Izuku away, Mom had stopped him from leaving.

 _Just a moment_ , she'd said, and Izuku had dawdled by the door, scuffing his shoes on the floor though he knew he'd be scolded for it. She'd disappeared into his room. Izuku spent the time staring at the apartment trying to memorize it, thinking about how strange it was to have packed clothes and books and belongings all neatly into a suitcase.

At the time, Izuku hadn't known that was the last time he'd see his home as he knew it.

Mom reappeared with a box in her hands. She was a little flushed, but she'd smiled as she passed it over.

 _Mom,_ he'd complained when he'd opened it. _It's only a week._

 _Take him with you,_ she'd told him, putting her arms around him. Izuku wished he'd cherished the moment a little longer instead of itching to get out the door and down to the car where his father was waiting for him.

He'd protested that it was too embarrassing, but Izuku had relented in the end.

 _All Might will watch over you for me,_ she'd said. Mom had been smiling, he remembered. She took one of the figurines for herself, then. _And when you come home, we'll put them all back together._

Back then, Izuku had rolled his eyes. He loved his mom, of course, and All Might, but he'd felt a little childish clutching that box of figurines.

Izuku would give anything to go back to that moment. To stay home, or to feel Mom's arms around him, or to stand on the threshold again, afternoon light coloring his suitcase and unaware of the days ahead.

"You'll watch over me, won't you?"

The little All Mights were all smiling brilliantly. Izuku rubbed at his eyes and tried to match them.

It was hard, but Izuku stretched his mouth into a semblance of a smile. He took one of the figurines and closed the box again, putting it back in its hiding spot with his Quirk analysis notebooks. It was a small store of the things Izuku would never let Chimera get its hands on.

Izuku glanced out the window. It was early evening, with the sun beginning to dip and the sky becoming soft and hazy. Somewhere, maybe in this city, All Might was shuffling home after a long day. Somewhere Mom was putting on an apron to cook dinner for one, and somewhere Kacchan was going to pick a fight, angry for all that had happened.

Everyone was somewhere. Going places. Seeing things. And life continued to pass Izuku by.

He shook his head, grabbing a t-shirt from the floor and swapping it for the one he was wearing. Then he tucked the All Might figurine into his pocket before slinging a dark jacket over his shoulders.

Izuku needed to get out to clear his head and think. All Might's offer brewed in the back of his head. Kacchan's terrified face. Hisashi, and Izuku's newest mission.

It was a mess.

Izuku wouldn't be needed for the rest of the day, so he grabbed his earbuds and slipped out into the hall. He shut the small bedroom door behind him and left, careful to avoid crossing paths with anyone.

Outside, Izuku released a breath. He looked back at the small, worn-down compound—an old, run-down factory that was only one of Chimera's many quarters. The first floor had been left as it was, but the second floor had been converted into a crude living area. It was the hidden underground levels where the real business happened, a place Izuku tried to avoid when he could.

He strode down the street, heading to a more upbeat side of town. Izuku put in his earbuds, opening the right app on his phone, and began to listen to Present Mic's voice as he chatted to his listeners. He sighed happily—Izuku hadn't listened to the show in a month, too busy and tired to keep up in the in-between. And after running into Present Mic, he'd been too scared to turn the radio on. He wasn't sure what Present Mic would do, having seen Izuku's face.

He was meant to follow Present Mic, to tail him and report any signs of his friend—the underground hero Izuku had been chasing. Izuku still hadn't found his name after digging, so he'd resorted to hoping the two would meet.

Instead, Izuku had walked straight into a villain fight Present Mic was losing.

Soft music began to play as Izuku reached his destination, and Izuku switched the radio show off. Izuku stuck everything back in his pockets and began to the scale the building wall. He'd found FM Tokai Studios by chance, after learning that Present Mic ran his show from there. He'd even slipped into a few live shows before, and he found the atmosphere relaxing and a small comfort.

For a big show, it was a small building made with brown brick and a standing neon sign on the roof with the studio's name. It was to the roof Izuku headed.

He carefully pulled himself over the edge and settled himself next to the neon sign and away from satellites. There was a series of open vents and a skylight right where Izuku sat, and Present Mic's voice drifted up here.

Izuku stretched out and stared up at the changing sky, appreciating the colors that made themself known. Orange and pink and the deep blue of night, creeping at the edges.

"—and isn't it a great song? In the next hour, I've got a fantastic line-up for my little listeners!"

Izuku smiled to himself, closing his eyes and letting Present Mic's voice wash over him.

"Before we move onto our next segment, I'd like to put out a notice again… a thank you to whoever saved my life two weeks ago—"

Izuku sat up, hands scraping painfully against the surface of the roof. _Two weeks ago._

"He's thanking me…" Izuku whispered, and he thought he might have begun to glow. Something molten cracked in his chest.

"—hero. Next up, we'll be playing _Peace Sign_ —"

Izuku took his phone out. He pressed the newest number in his phone, and began a text. All Might believed in him. So did Present Mic. And finally, _finally_ Izuku had done something, had made choices that went against everything Hisashi had taught him. If there were people who believed in him, and an opportunity, golden and shining, Izuku would be a fool not to take it.

And there, under the stars, Izuku decided he was going to be a hero, one way or another.

* * *

 **Note: this fic was started entirely on the premise that I thought it would be funny to see Izuku badly hiding OfA from villain!Hisashi & everything that would come with it.**

 **Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think by dropping a comment or find me on tumblr riftlotor.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Flare Signal  
** achieving elysium

* * *

"Going out?" Izuku said flatly, stabbing his breakfast with more force than he needed.

Hisashi nodded. There was a light in his eyes: a gleam that meant he was confident. He reveled in the quiet destruction his fire brought, and it made the egg Izuku had just put in his mouth taste like ash.

"Thank you for the information," Bonestealer said, drifting by. They waved a hand. "You're as helpful as ever, darling."

The other villains left as quickly as they had come, but Hisashi stopped.

"Keep doing your job," he ordered, "and an eye out for any trouble. I don't have to remind you…?"

Izuku mimed zipping his mouth shut. "Don't say a word."

Something almost like approval flitted across Hisashi's face. He nodded.

"I'll see you tonight," he said, his voice curt, and then he disappeared into the smoky light of early morning.

Izuku finished his egg and scraped his fork against the plate, letting the awful sound fill his head. Then he got up, dumping his plate in his sink and grabbing his phone from the counter. He had places to be, too.

His first stop was the convenience store. He ambled through the aisles, getting a new notebook and perusing a few magazines.

They were always filled with silly stories and attention-hungry rumors, but Izuku knew even the thinnest lies had truth to them. Present Mic was starting a new segment on his show, though no one knew what it was. Probably _not_ dating advice as the writer suggested, but then again, Present Mic could be refreshingly (or frustratingly) unpredictable at times.

Izuku took careful note of new heroes on the scene; Chimera loved those, always hungry for new targets. He skipped over a couple pages on the latest hero fashion, instead looking for anything else that could be useful. A fleeting line about some underground hero—name, of course, redacted. A snippet about All Might Izuku read hungrily, though it gave him nothing.

As Izuku put the magazine back, he caught sight of the small stack of newspapers nearby.

There, at the bottom of the front page: _CRIME ORGANIZATION ON THE RISE_.

Izuku swallowed back bile and picked it up after checking to make sure no one was around to see him self-destruct. It _was_ Chimera, just like he'd thought. Then he scanned through it quickly. The article didn't seem to have much, but Izuku bought the newspaper anyway.

Chimera wasn't inactive by any means, but they'd been careful with their exploits. They spent their days biding their time, lying low, waiting for some signal before unleashing their plans. Those Izuku wasn't privy to, and he didn't know if he wanted to be or not.

Izuku's last purchase was box dye. The color was fading again—not terribly noticeable yet, but it was about time to redye it. Maybe he'd cut his hair. He hadn't in a while.

He paid for his items and then stepped out.

Izuku hummed to himself as he swung the bag on his arm. He dawdled as he strode down the street, not in any hurry to return with nothing to return to.

The phone in his pocket buzzed, and Izuku's mood dampened immediately. He paused, leaning against a nearby wall and sliding his phone from his pocket.

 _ **Silver 10:23 AM**_

 _guess who's back, bitch_

Izuku almost dropped his phone.

 _ **You 10:24 AM**_

 _whwh when did you ghet bacjkk_

He frowned when Silver didn't reply for a minute, then another. Of course she'd leave him hanging like that.

His phone buzzed again.

 _ **Silver 10:28 AM**_

 _ground zero?_

 _ **You 10:28 AM**_

 _see you soon._

As promised, Silver was waiting for Izuku when he jogged the rest of the way to their usual meeting place. She nodded when she saw him, waving a hand casually as he reached her.

"Hey, kid."

Izuku couldn't help the smile that burst across his face.

"Silver!"

Silver passed a can in his face, and Izuku took the soda gratefully. She'd gotten herself plum juice, the kind she'd always liked but Izuku hated.

"Haven't seen you in a while," she commented as the two clambered up the crumbling stone wall and then sat, swinging their legs over the side. Izuku kicked his feet against the wall, feeling years younger than he was.

"A while?" Izuku elbowed her sharply. "I haven't seen you in a _week_ , Silver."

Silver sighed, stabbing her plastic straw into the juice box with a force that made it seem like she was stabbing a victim instead. She scowled when the opening didn't break and tried again.

"I know."

The words were so low Izuku almost didn't hear them. She finally stuck her straw through and sucked at her juice box petulantly.

"I still don't get why they keep us apart like this," Izuku complained when it didn't look like Silver was going to say anything. "I mean, I get the whole thing with keeping us in the dark so we have nothing to share if we're compromised, and that's why I only work with Hisashi, and you only work with, well, I don't know why I'm saying any of this, you already know—"

Silver's eyes gleamed as she glanced at him.

"I missed your dumb voice."

Izuku, who'd been taking a sip of his soda, spat it all back out.

He sputtered, trying to come up with a response. "You can't just say that out of nowhere."

Silver knocked their shoulders together.

"You didn't miss me back?" she teased.

Izuku flapped his arms wildly. "Of- of _course_ I did!"

Silver made a sound of approval. When she smiled, it was soft, the kind of smile Izuku liked to save because it wasn't one that appeared often. Usually Silver's smiles were sharper, predatory. A fanged creature waiting to strike.

"What have you been up to this past week?" she asked finally.

Izuku frowned at her, catching the transition.

"You didn't tell me where you were."

Silver cocked her head, thin charcoal hair falling like a curtain to the side. There it was—that sharp edge to her face, her eyes dark like glinting obsidian. It made a chill shoot down Izuku's spine. She jerked her chin at him.

"Come on, kid," she said, "we both know your heart is gold enough for both of us. You don't want to know what I've been up to."

Izuku swallowed and accepted it.

"Okay," he said quietly.

"I heard from- Miss Guidance that you've got a new assignment?"

The sweet soda bubbled as Izuku swallowed. He wiped at his mouth, finding the taste suddenly sour.

"I don't want to talk about it."

Silver caught her lip between her teeth and leaned back on her hands to study him.

"That bad, huh?"

"I can't do it," Izuku spilled, wringing his hands together nervously. "I have to, I know I have to, and there's so much at stake, and it's… it's more than just Chimera now, I know that, it's bigger than just us. I can't not do it, but I can't do it—"

A sharp, brief pulse of pain. A second later, Silver's tail drew back—she'd whacked him with the side of it.

"Ow," Izuku mumbled, but she'd gotten him out of his head for the moment. "You could've been gentler."

Silver snorted. "Me, gentle?"

He sighed.

"You must really admire the hero if you're so worked up about it?"

Izuku let out a dry laugh. "Admire isn't a strong enough word, Silver."

"Relax, kid. You've been tense since I saw you. You're letting your thoughts go all crazy again."

"I can't _help_ it," he whined.

"Who is it?"

Izuku's stomach twisted when he thought of the conversation he'd had only last night, on the roof.

 _I accept your offer_ , he'd sent plainly. There hadn't been a reply for a long time, though Izuku had seen All Might typing.

In the end, All Might hadn't said much, though Izuku thought he must've wanted to.

 _Thank you_. _I'm glad, young Akatani._

Izuku shook his head. "Can't say."

"I'll find out eventually."

"Eventually," Izuku repeated, "not now."

Silver looked like she wanted to push him further, but she caught the look on Izuku's face and nodded, dropping the subject. Izuku sighed, relieved.

"You were never meant to be one of us," she said finally.

Silver crumpled up her empty juice box and tossed it down to the far ground below, where it stopped to rest in a patch of green grass. Izuku didn't have the energy to reprimand her for littering, only frowning and then squeaking in surprise when she stole his soda.

"Neither were you," Izuku pointed out. "If Chimera didn't have its claws in us, I don't think either of us would've been villains."

"Don't know about that," Silver said, flicking the tab of the soda can idly, "but you'd be a hero, wouldn't you? Maybe I would've been a teacher like Mom."

Izuku perked up. It was rare Silver talked about her family from before Chimera. Miss Guidance had recruited Silver a number of years before Izuku had ever laid eyes on his father, taking Silver under her wing though Izuku had no idea how she'd done it or why she'd chosen Silver.

"Your mom was a teacher?"

Silver hummed. "Yeah. Taught little kids. I used to help her around the classroom."

"I think you would've made a great teacher," Izuku ventured.

He could picture it. Silver had a soft spot for children, and though she could be a bit snappy and rakish at times, Izuku thought she'd be patient with them.

"Thanks, kid."

Silver dropped from the wall to the ground, dusting off her black jeans with her hands. Her tail swung back and forth, keeping her balanced.

"C'mon. Nice to think about, but I think we've got a job to return to."

Izuku grumbled as he followed, drinking the last of his soda.

"Don't remind me."

He spotted a trash can not too far away and aimed. At the last second, Silver tackled him, and the soda can flew wide.

Izuku shrieked, instincts kicking in when he saw a flash of silver to the side. He rolled as Silver's tail whipped down in the space where his shoulder had been, but there wasn't any time to clamp his teeth around victory because Silver was there again. Izuku kept up defense for a minute before she had him pinned, the point of her tail pressed to his throat.

"You're getting sloppy." The tail lifted and then gently tapped against the soft hollow of his throat. "Dead."

Still, Silver's hair had gotten messed up and she was panting slightly. He'd put up a somewhat decent fight.

"You haven't been around to spar with me," Izuku countered, though it was hard to speak. "Bonestealer just beats me up."

Silver's mouth twisted with half-amusement, half-pity. She eased off of him and offered Izuku a hand.

Izuku didn't take it, pushing himself up. He knew she would've flipped him over her shoulder the moment he took it.

"Want to go to an arcade?"

"An arcade?"

Silver shrugged. She slid her black jacket off and tied it at her waist, revealing a tank top and pale shoulders.

"Nothing better to do, and I want to kick your butt."

He rolled his eyes at her but conceded. Before they could get very far, Izuku's phone buzzed. He pulled it out, wondering what Hisashi wanted. He was still out, though—Izuku frowned, puzzled at why he'd be texting if he was probably burning a building down.

"Boss text you?"

Izuku grunted. The phone buzzed again, and the notification wasn't from the person he expected. He yelped and accidentally flung the phone away from him, then scrambled to catch it before it hit the ground.

He missed, of course, and Izuku watched miserably as it bounced.

"Don't be cracked, don't be cracked, please don't die—"

Silver cackled as he fetched it.

"What did he say to make you do that?"

"It's not Hisashi," Izuku responded, examining his phone and making sure it was fine before he opened it.

"It's, what?"

"Not Hisashi," Izuku said, reading All Might's two texts.

 _ **Yagi Toshinori 11:02 AM**_

 _Would you like to go to lunch with me?_

 _ **Yagi Toshinori 11:02 AM**_

 _We need to discuss training._

It was short and to-the-point. Casual enough not to be suspicious to most people, and, of course, with no mention of All Might, Quirks, or everything in between.

 _ **Yagi Toshinori 11:04 AM**_

 _It's ok if you're not free, I know this is sudden! Let me know._

Then All Might sent a smiley face, and Izuku just about keeled over. Silver shoved him.

"One sec," he mumbled, fingers flying across the keyboard.

 _ **You 11:04 AM**_

 _LJKDsyeha_

 _ **Yagi Toshinori 11:05 AM**_

 _Is that a yes?_

 _ **You 11:05 AM**_

 _hy_

 _ **You 11:05 AM**_

 _gbh_

 _ **You 11:05 AM**_

 _YEAH_

 _ **Yagi Toshinori 11:06 AM**_

 _Great. Are you alright_

 _ **You 11:06 AM**_

 _NO IM REALLY GOOD yeah where do you wanna go_

All Might sent him an address, but Silver snatched his phone from him before Izuku could reply or search it up. She didn't read his messages but did glance at them, lowering the phone to raise her eyebrows at him.

"Making friends, I see?"

Izuku tried to get his phone, but Silver held it out of reach.

"Give it back."

"Try to reach it, short stack."

Izuku swiped at her ankles, and Silver retaliated by kicking him in the stomach and knocking the air out of him. He doubled over, wheezing.

"Tell me who texted you, and I'll give it back."

Izuku straightened up, frowning. "I… can't."

"Won't, or can't?"

Izuku winced. As supportive as Silver was, he wasn't sure telling her he was meeting All Might was a good idea. Or anything remotely related to the situation, either. She _probably_ wouldn't rat him out, but she would kill him, so it didn't really matter.

Izuku wasn't telling her. No. Way.

"He's—an informant."

Silver's expression turned thoughtful. "An… informant? Can you trust him?"

Izuku shrugged. "He can get places I can't."

Whether Izuku liked it or not, it was true. All Might was an informant, in a way. He just didn't know it.

"You're playing with fire," Silver cautioned, handing his phone back. "They're not going to like this."

"They don't have to know." Izuku peeked up at her. "...Right?"

Silver folded her arms over her chest.

"Izuku, this is dangerous."

"So is living with villains."

"Yeah, and going behind your father's back? Exchanging information with someone who could compromise you? How can you trust your guy?"

"He doesn't know he's helping me."

Suddenly Izuku wasn't lying anymore. To be a hero, he'd have to cross All Might. To protect everyone, he'd have to hand over All Might's weaknesses and take on his power. All Might had no idea there was someone plotting against him—Izuku had to both keep him safe and put him in danger at the same time.

"You—"

"I need his help. He- Silver, please, you have to understand-"

"Izuku, you're going to get yourself hurt."

"Please don't tell any of them," Izuku pleaded. "Silver, please, if I, he could—he could get me out."

"Don't say that, Izuku." Silver grabbed his shoulders and shook him. "Are you listening to yourself?"

"You promised me," Izuku said lowly, staring her in the eye. "I need the information, and if I'm careful, he could help me get out. You promised me."

"Not like this," Silver said softly, but she let go of him and stepped back.

"I'm sorry," Izuku said, "but if there's any chance—"

"I know. I _know_." Silver dragged a hand across her face. She was only a few years older than him, but she looked like she had aged over the last minute. "Dammit, Izuku, _why_ do I— _argh_ , just fucking go."

Izuku dared to wrap his arms around her in a light hug, dashing away before she could do anything. He left her on the street corner watching.

All Might was waiting at a small table outside when Izuku arrived. He was still stewing over the conversation he'd had with Silver—if it could be called a conversation, anyway.

"Ah, young Akatani."

Izuku tried for a smile. "Um, hi. Yagi."

He browsed through the menu and settled on a dish, the two of them placing their orders quickly, though All Might's was very specific.

 _Restricted diet_ , Izuku thought, _as result of his_ —

He stopped himself, mind going back to what he'd told Silver.

"So," All Might boomed. Another patron glanced over, and All Might coughed and lowered his volume. "Thank you for accepting my offer, my boy. The search for a successor has been… difficult."

"Oh, uh, well…"

"I'm sure we've both made the right choice!"

Izuku smiled thinly.

They chatted lightly for a while, but Izuku found the conversation running out after a while.

"You said you wanted to talk about training."

"Yes—ah, thank you for the food—I did." All Might reached into a pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper, sliding it across the table to Izuku.

"A training regime," Izuku said, scanning it. "You want me to follow this?"

"That's right," All Might said. He glanced around, but there was no one close enough to eavesdrop. "The Quirk's powerful, you see…"

"Uh, you literally changed the weather."

"...yes, yes, exactly, so if you," All Might looked around again and cleared his throat, "hypothetically had the same Quirk with your current body, you might, well, explode."

Izuku choked.

" _Explode?_ "

"Oh, yes," he said, sipping water like he hadn't just told Izuku he could explode. "Think of, ah… this glass of water. You see? Now imagine trying to fit the entire ocean in it."

Izuku wheezed. "It'd shatter."

All Might snapped his fingers together. "Exactly! You'd be blown to pieces. Maybe lose an arm or two."

Izuku thought his eyes were going to fall out of his head.

"An arm or two?" he squeaked, voice rising with each word.

All Might frowned. "You're right, you're right, I guess it wouldn't just be your arms," he said, "probably your legs as well."

Izuku took a deep breath.

"Great."

"Fantastic, isn't it?"

"Oh, yeah. Yes. Just… yeah. I am very excited."

"You should be!" All Might continued, oblivious to the fact that Izuku was about to explode right then and there without the help of any Quirks at all. "Anyway, so we need to train you so your body will be an able vessel to the power."

Izuku scarfed down his food. "So I… don't explode."

"So you don't explode." All Might set down his chopsticks and looked across the table at Izuku. "You obviously already know some basics of fighting, and you're fast. But this will be very intense—more than you realize. Do you think you can handle it?"

Izuku set his jaw, a fire beginning to spark inside of him. "Yeah!"

All Might smiled. "We don't have a lot of time, unfortunately. The U.A. entrance exams are very close. But have no worries! The training regime should have you ready by that time."

Izuku's brain screeched to a halt. The fire that had been steadily growing in him sputtered.

"U.A…."

He could practically hear Silver's laugh. _Good luck getting Hisashi to agree to that._

Good luck, indeed. Hisashi would never in a million years let Izuku even step _foot_ in U.A., much less attend the hero course.

"But of course," All Might said, "if you intend to be a hero, young man, you must go to U.A. The hero course is unparalleled."

"Yeah," Izuku said. "Oh, I know."

Going to U.A. was like a fever dream. He and Kacchan had planned to go together, once upon a time. Kacchan, of course, was going to place first in the entrance exams, but he'd grudgingly said Izuku had a shot. It was the only outspoken compliment Izuku had ever gotten, especially considering Izuku's Quirk was a little less suited to combat than Kacchan's.

All Might mistook Izuku's silence. How, Izuku really wasn't sure.

"Don't tell anyone, but…" He winked. "I'll be there as a teacher in the upcoming semester. It's not public information yet, but I'll be there to guide you."

Izuku took the training instructions and stuffed it in his pocket.

"Okay," he said. "Okay."

Izuku ran over going to U.A. in his head again and again after he'd returned from lunch. He taped the paper to his wall then decided it wasn't a good idea, hiding it instead in one of his notebooks.

In his new notebook, he wrote:

 **All Might**

 **Weaknesses:** _Injury and surgery that leads to problems with his body, including time limit and restricted diet. Really loud._

There was a plethora of information Izuku now held that he could analyze, but he found himself doodling mindlessly for the rest of the day. He sketched out a hero costume then found himself stopping to put real effort in it. A mouth guard. Someplace to strap a knife. Gauntlets, maybe, though Izuku wondered if they would really do any good.

It led to Izuku making his own page, filling up every part of it with notes and ideas he hadn't dared to dream of in years.

By the time Izuku had dumped his brain onto paper, it was late. Izuku shut off his light, briefly considering going to the kitchen to get something to eat and then deciding against it. He didn't know if the rest of Chimera was back yet, and he wasn't particularly eager to find out.

Instead Izuku clambered into bed, drifting off with thoughts of costume design swirling in his head.

It wasn't long before someone was pounding on Izuku's door.

He sat up, tossing a thin blanket to the side. Izuku threw himself out of bed as the door slammed open, Silver in the doorway.

"Get up," she snapped. "Boss said to pack your things and be out in three minutes, got it?"

Izuku's mind was still hazy from sleep—it was only four in the morning, it seemed, but the urgency in Silver's voice jolted him wide-awake.

"What's going on?" Izuku asked, crossing to the small desk and grabbing the scattered papers and notebooks there. Moonlight spilled through the window, but Izuku knew it'd be interrupted soon.

He didn't _need_ Silver to tell him what was happening, but he wanted her to say it anyway.

"That fucking underground hero you've been tracking," Silver said. "Don't know where he came from or how he found out, but he's here. Got a few pros with him."

Izuku swore.

"I know," Silver growled, "but we've gotta move. Make sure you get everything important. Lights out in five."

Then she was gone.

Izuku swore again to himself as he moved with practiced ease to pack everything he needed. The data and information he'd collected for Chimera was safely tucked away into the false bottom of a suitcase, sandwiched between his personal things. He slid a hand under his mattress and pulled out the knife hidden there, putting it into the holster he always wore.

It wasn't often they had to move locations, but Chimera was always prepared just in case. No matter how many hours Izuku and Silver sat with their heads together, analyzing and tracking police calls and tip-offs, there were still things that slipped under the radar. Human minds were brilliant when pitted against each other.

Hisashi had run drill after drill of emergency situations. This had been one of them; as Izuku snapped the suitcase shut and prepared to leave, he remembered the first time they'd run the drill. It'd taken him twenty minutes, spent dawdling over what was important and what wasn't, how to pack things, where to go and what to do. Now, it took him three.

As a final action, Izuku crossed to the closet and pulled out the heavy canister of kerosene. He started pouring, dousing the floor and bed, and then let the canister drip as he headed down the hall.

Hisashi passed by, three bags on him. He touched Izuku's shoulder briefly and then disappeared.

"Izuku, catch!"

His arms moved before his mind could catch up, and then there a sudden, heavy weight in his arms. Tech, he registered, crammed into a briefcase. Silver came barreling down the hall, and she grabbed his arm as she passed, the two of them running together.

The temperature was already rising as the two raced downstairs. Phase one of evacuation was done—grab everything important. Hisashi had already begun phase two: lights out.

Suddenly Silver stopped. She turned to stare at him with wide eyes.

"The compounds," she hissed.

Izuku's mind spun with panic. They didn't have _time_ ; the longer they stayed, the more likely they were going to be caught—or, even before the pros got here, they'd be dead.

Izuku tugged at her hand. "It doesn't matter. We still have some in store, and Hisashi has the formulas. We've got to go."

But Silver wouldn't move. Her tail whipped back and forth frantically.

"We'll be blown to pieces!"

Izuku forced the panic down and thought back. They'd tested several compounds for compatibility with—

Oh.

"I'll go," Izuku said, shoving his things into Silver's arms. "Find Hisashi and see if you can delay him for another minute. The others will have to run interference if they have to."

Silver hesitated, but Izuku pushed her forwards.

"I won't be caught," he promised, waving a hand. "They won't even see me."

"Winds carry us," Silver murmured, and then shouldered everything, heading towards the door.

With that, Izuku went for the back of the factory, slipping between old machinery. In the back was a storage unit that Izuku tore open, cold air hissing as the door opened. Inside were rows of vials, filled with pale liquids. Izuku grabbed them and the case nearby and began to shove them all inside.

Silver was right. The compound was too dangerous to be left. Once Hisashi started phase two, they wouldn't be able to get far enough before they were caught in the aftermath.

Izuku hissed when the case was too full and began to shove the remaining vials in his pockets.

" _Izuku!_ "

Silver was at the far door, waving. When she caught his attention, she raised her hand and held a finger in the air. Then she was gone again.

One minute left. One minute to regroup and leave the facility behind in flames.

Outside, he heard the footsteps: the others, probably, preparing to leave. Then, closer, the sound of glass shattering.

Izuku didn't stop to question it. He ran.

"Villains!" someone boomed.

There was Present Mic, hands on his hips as he surveyed the factory. The back doors opened, and two more heroes slipped in. He recognized them. Midnight, and the underground hero Izuku had been tracking, the one who'd been stirring up trouble for a month.

Izuku slid under a piece of machinery, counting down mentally. He had to get out of there without being seen.

Slowly, Izuku activated his Quirk, shaping the dim light around him into an image of darkness.

"Split up."

"I'll check the second floor," Present Mic said.

As the heroes spoke, Izuku shifted slowly towards the door. He crept past, keeping low and making sure nothing was dragging against the ground. The underground hero was stealthy and methodical as he swept the space. The scarf around his neck loosened; he gripped one end in his hand.

It wasn't a scarf, Izuku realized. It was a weapon.

He was closer than Izuku had ever seen him. Now Izuku could see the lines in his unkempt face, the bags under his half-lidded eyes. The hero lowered his goggles over his face.

Izuku shouldn't have hesitated, but this was a chance to find out who the hero was.

The thought was distracting enough that Izuku tripped over a low pipe and crashed to the ground. The hero was on him in an instant as Izuku's illusion disappeared, his concentration lost.

The hero glared at him. Izuku reached for his Quirk again and found himself slamming into a mental wall. A block. There was nothing there.

"Erasure," Izuku whispered, half-fascinated and half-terrified. An incredible Quirk.

Activated by the eyes, just like Izuku had thought, but _definitely_ way cooler than his theory of eye lasers. He had to be in sight of his target, then; the goggles were some sort of protective measure, maybe?

Izuku didn't have time to think, because there was a scarf hurtling towards him. Izuku hit the ground again, slipping under it and running for the exit.

On the other side of the building, he saw flames pour in.

"Lights out," Izuku whispered. Fire raced towards the two of them, eating at the ground and lighting the building in orange and yellow light.

"Who-"

Minutes before the factory would catch on fire.

Izuku reached into his pocket, closing his fingers around a small vial, and smashed it on the ground. The compound did as it was made for—combusting as the flames reached it, heightening the danger of the fire. It'd been built to complement Hisashi's Quirk, after all, and now it was.

The Erasure hero drew back as a wall of flame rippled between them.

"For what it's worth," Izuku said, "I'm sorry."

The hero lowered his arm from where it had been shielding his face. He stared at Izuku, frowning as something occurred to him.

"You're a kid—"

"Eraserhead!" came a distant voice.

Izuku latched onto it.

"Eraserhead, huh," he said, "you're—good, you know that?"

"What are you doing with a group of villains?"

Izuku answered before he could stop himself. "You think I have a choice? I'd be on your side if I could, hero."

Eraserhead moved forward, but Izuku threw himself backward and smashed another vial on the ground, separating them.

"Wait!"

Izuku turned tail and fled.

He didn't bother activating his Quirk. With Eraserhead in sight, it didn't make sense anyway. Instead he focused on running out the door, where he saw three figures waiting in a nondescript white van. Silver, perched in the back, waved frantically as the van started.

"Come on!"

He crossed the remaining distance between them and leapt up next to Silver.

"Got it?" she asked, gripping his arm.

"Yeah," Izuku panted, still shaken by his conversation. He set the case of vials down. "Yeah, I got it."

The two of them shut the van doors as Hisashi appeared in a blaze of smoke. Orange flames licked at the sky behind him as he climbed in, and then they were off.

"You think they made it out?" Izuku murmured.

Silver shrugged. "I don't care like you do. Either they did or they didn't. At the very least there won't be any trouble for a while."

"Yeah," Izuku croaked as they pulled away to the sound of police sirens. Behind them, fire raged against the dawn, and Izuku watched it become further and further until it looked nothing more than a dying ember.


	3. Chapter 3

**Flare Signal** _  
chapter three_

* * *

Izuku drummed his fingers nervously on the side of the chair as the door to the little conference room opened. A set of heavy footsteps was followed by a dark shadow dropping into the only empty chair left at the long wooden table.

"Sorry I'm late," Bonestealer said, taking off their hat and slipping a gloved hand through their short hair. They grinned. "Had to take care of some business."

"Of course," Miss Guidance responded. She folded her hands on the table in front of her, fiddling with a gold ring around her finger before her hands settled.

Hisashi didn't say anything, only opening the tablet he'd brought and then projecting the image on it in the air in front of them. The frozen image was of a pro hero Izuku didn't recognize. To be honest, the pro didn't seem particularly attention-grabbing, dressed in a simple blue outfit that leaned on the more practical than flashy side, which Izuku could appreciate. Padded, with armor-like pieces for protection. The only noteworthy part was the simple white-and-black eye emblazoned on the chest, half-open and staring at Izuku.

"Who's this? New hero?"

Silver took her feet off the table and dragged her chair closer, purposefully letting the chair legs scrape against the floor to annoy the others. Izuku hid a smile when Miss Guidance sent Silver a sidelong look of disapproval.

"Sidekick," Hisashi said, switching to a video and then clicking play.

Izuku watched in silence, fingers still tapping by his side. The video was grainy at best, obviously shot from a distance. The focus wasn't on the sidekick, either, but instead the pro hero he was sidekicking for.

Smoke poured around the heroes. The camera shook; someone screamed.

The hero they were watching activated their Quirk, and Izuku saw three mirror images appear suddenly in front of him. Hisashi paused the video.

"An illusion Quirk," Izuku murmured, fascinated despite his misgivings. He found himself leaning forward.

It wasn't often Izuku found Quirks that were similar to his. With such a wide range of Quirks and possible combinations, and the subtlety of illusions in everyday life, Izuku didn't get a chance to look at other illusionary or light manipulating Quirks.

"Maybe," Silver started in a tone of voice that suggested she wanted to make a joke. She flicked her eyes up at Hisashi and seemed to rescind her decision. "Well."

"Can you zoom in any closer?"

Hisashi obliged, though it didn't help. Everything was pretty fuzzy around the edges.

Izuku sighed, bouncing his leg a couple times in thought.

"Looks like his illusions are copies of him… a mirror image."

Hisashi hummed in confirmation. "From what we know, Reflekta can only create illusions of himself, reported up to five, but we have no information of his limits."

"He's got to have one," Silver murmured. Her tail curled up behind her. "Everyone does."

"Practical in fights," Izuku noted, "as a good distraction or feints, and he could corner someone by surrounding them with himself. Um. They look really realistic, too?"

"You have trouble creating human illusions, don't you?"

Bonestealer inclined their head, eyeing him from across the table.

"W- well, uh, well," Izuku stammered, swallowing, "uh, our Quirks have… have different scopes. I, I mean, my best guess is, like, he's really good at copying himself because that's what his Quirk allows him and limits him to. Um, I, uh, I've got a broader range, right, I can create the illusion of a lot more things, so it's harder for me? An- and people are a lot more complex for me, but he must have been training his entire life."

"How do we tell the difference between his copies and him?"

Izuku wet his lips nervously.

This was what he was dreading. Telling them Refleckta's weaknesses meant he wasn't only dooming a hero to some awful fate, but Izuku was also putting himself in a bad position. Even with a slight difference, he'd practically be handing Chimera his own weaknesses, too.

Silver must've read some of it on his face.

"What if we can't?"

Izuku caught her eye and tapped his foot gently against the floor in a pattern. _I-t-s o-k._

She shot him a look of warning, and he shrugged slightly back. There was nothing to be done. Izuku would just have to be more careful.

He waved a hand at Hisashi, cueing him to continue the video to see if there was anything to pick out.

The heroes faded to outlines as they pushed forward into the smoke. Reflekta and his copies spread out and then continued on, one by one. Izuku focused on the ones he thought were illusions and then back on the real one, trying to tell the difference.

The video ended as the cameraperson lost sight of the group of heroes, but before it did, Izuku caught a brief, distant flash of light.

"Back up a few seconds," Izuku ordered, standing up to get a better look. "That light. What is that?"

"Where?"

Izuku moved to Silver's shoulder and pointed at the bright light that appeared through the smoke for a brief moment, a few seconds at best.

"That." He turned his gaze to Hisashi. "Another Quirk? Can we tell who it's coming from?"

Because from Izuku's view, the flash of light had come from where one of Reflekta's illusions had gone. He couldn't be completely sure without seeing the hero in action, but maybe Reflekta's Quirk worked differently.

"Is it important?"

Izuku frowned. "Maybe. It's—too hard to tell."

Hisashi crossed his arms, looking displeased. It wasn't like it was _Izuku_ 's fault there wasn't enough information to go off of.

"Tell us what you can, then."

Izuku ran his tongue over his teeth, exchanging a look with Silver. "Is that all you have?"

"For now."

"I can't just…" Izuku sighed, then set his shoulders. "Okay. Okay."

Izuku waved a hand and focused. The light shivered in front of him, and the illusion took shape as a sunflower. Yellow petals bloomed outwards from a dark, speckled center, until Izuku held out a hand to wrap around the empty air where a thick, green stem hovered.

"Illusions are difficult," Izuku said. "But the more you practice, the better you are, and the less concentration you need."

He closed his hand around the illusion, and it vanished.

"His weakness," Bonestealer prompted from down the table.

"My guess is… Reflekta probably doesn't have a problem creating illusions of himself," he began slowly, thinking it through, "but it's not sustainable. He may be able to create three independent illusions in his own likeness. He's good, he's had years of practice, probably. But the effort to maintain them as well as focus on himself in a fight is too much."

"He has to be a good fighter, though," Silver added. "You can't underestimate him. The illusions are probably just…"

"A distraction," Izuku finished, nodding. "Probably relies on a tactic of misdirection—he'll lure you astray and then trap you when you're distracted."

Izuku glanced at Hisashi, who only made a low noise of acknowledgement to show that he'd understood.

"As far as telling the difference…" Izuku hummed in thought. "Well, that's a little harder. You might be able to if you look carefully. Illusions aren't really affected by the environment—I think the easiest way if we're talking about human illusions is to look at something obvious, like hair or clothes."

He paused. "Can you replay the video?"

Hisashi did, and Izuku closed his eyes, trying to focus his other senses. Shouting. Footsteps. The crackle of audio. Still, it was too difficult to discern without being present.

"I mean, I don't know the extent his Quirk goes to…" Izuku opened his eyes, glancing at Hisashi to find an expectant look leveled back at him. "Uh… right. Sorry. Anyway, I don't know if his illusions fully affect the senses. They could just be visual manipulations—"

He stopped himself. "Yeah."

"So we may not be able to hear them?"

Izuku nodded. "The best illusions are the ones that can fool all your senses, but I've never heard of anyone who could. The important thing to remember if you get drawn into a fight with Reflekta is that illusions rely on the rush. When you face a set of illusions, the average person won't really think about if it's real or not. No one pays attention to whether there's sound or the particulars of what the illusions look like, and that gives Reflekta an advantage. He trusts he can lead you astray."

Izuku cleared his throat. "Um, yeah."

Bonestealer was nodding. Neither Hisashi nor Miss Guidance looked like they were particularly impressed, but he'd learned to read them—well, he'd learned to read Hisashi, more like. His father had a slight lift to his lips and a line along his jaw where there hadn't been: he was pleased.

"Silver," Miss Guidance said. She exchanged a look with Hisashi, then Bonestealer, something passing between them. Then she stood and beckoned to Silver.

Silver got up without complaint and followed Miss Guidance out the door. Izuku frowned briefly as they left, then quickly settled his face back into something more neutral. Even after three years, information was divided between Izuku and Silver. Preventative measures, it was called.

Izuku knew it made sense, understood why it was done. He still privately called it bullshit.

"Is that all?"

Izuku winced as the words came from his mouth. He hadn't meant to say it so bluntly. It felt almost rude.

"How's progress with All Might?"

Izuku shrugged, suddenly uncomfortable. He wanted to melt into the ground or turn invisible. The second option was slightly more viable than the first, but it was a bit too late for that.

He'd never been particularly good at hiding things, which was why the whole _situation_ with All Might was a big problem. Izuku was the kind of person to wear his heart on his sleeve. Mom had always loved him for it, had told him he was kind and compassionate. She'd told him it was good he was so sincere, even if people made fun of him for crying.

Here, though, it was going to get Izuku killed.

"Uh," Izuku said, floundering, "I haven't made any progress?"

"Kid." Bonestealer laughed, leaning back. "You don't sound so sure of that, buddy."

Izuku caught his tongue between his teeth and held it there for a moment, willing himself not to make a sound. He just needed a second to scrape something together.

"Well, I just, um."

Think. Think, think, think. Don't panic, think.

Bonestealer usually only called Izuku _buddy_ when they were threatening him, and the thought didn't help. The room felt hot and heavy, pressing down on him.

"I don't have anything," Izuku said, stumbling through his words. "I really don't. I just, I mean, um, I think I've found someone who might know something? I'm just not sure, see."

"Hmm," Hisashi said. He didn't say anything else, which made Izuku nervous.

"Yeah, so like, I don't know."

Bonestealer chuckled. They reached for their mask and the cane propped by their chair.

"Alright, kid," they said, and Izuku breathed a little easier when Bonestealer nodded. "You look like you're telling the truth. Just—don't forget what happens if we catch you lying to us."

Izuku laughed nervously. "Don't worry," he said, "I really can't."

Hisashi nodded, dismissing him. "Let us know of any updates."

Izuku backed out the door, bunching his hands in the fabric of his shirt. Out in the hall, he saw Miss Guidance and Silver standing with their heads together, speaking in low voices. Miss Guidance had her back turned to Izuku, so he couldn't see her face.

Silver lifted her eyes toward him when he left the room. Her face was blank, but Izuku could tell she wasn't particularly happy. Izuku nodded once at her as he headed in their direction.

"Excuse me," Izuku said blandly, stepping between the two of them. Silver's tail tapped his ankle once as he continued walking. The conversation stopped, then continued when Izuku was out of range. He didn't dare look back.

Izuku kicked the door to his new room open and let out a long breath. He scrubbed at his face and then went to sit on his bed, thinking.

It was always hard. Izuku hated those meetings.

In a sudden rush of anger, Izuku tore his pillow off his bed and threw it at the wall. It hit with a muffled _thump_ and fell to the ground.

Izuku gritted his teeth. It wasn't enough. He pulled his blanket off the bed, kicking it and only growing more frustrated as it tangled with his feet. He crossed to the desk in his room and swept the papers onto the ground. Snatched the notebook there and threw that, too.

He trashed the room in a matter of minutes. There wasn't much he could throw, anyway.

Izuku stood in the mess, chest heaving. White hot anger bubbled under his skin. He wasn't the kind of person to get angry, but it happened every now and then. He'd gotten worse since joining Chimera.

He retrieved his pillow from the floor and then pressed his face into it, screaming as loudly as he dared. Then Izuku let it fall.

"I hate you," he snarled into the cold silence, unsure of who he was speaking to.

The anger left him all in an instant. The fire dissipated, leaving only a mix of frustrating hopelessness and sadness. Reflekta would be incapacitated within the week, once Chimera had watched him for a little longer to see if Izuku's analysis held up.

There was nothing Izuku could do about it. Bonestealer was definitely keeping an eye on him, and Izuku had no doubt Hisashi was, too. Acting was too risky.

It made Izuku feel selfish and awful every time.

He started to pick up his things, gathering up the papers and smoothing out the crumpled ones. Izuku collected his notebook, swept his blanket off the floor, and put everything back where it belonged.

One day he was going to have to do the same thing to All Might that he had done to Reflekta. That he'd done to Makeshift, or all of the heroes he'd analyzed.

But… maybe not.

Maybe with All Might's power and with All Might's help, Izuku would be able to— leave.

Izuku found his phone and clicked it open. All Might hadn't sent anything since their last conversation, when they'd set up a time to meet for Izuku's first training session.

Izuku hovered over the chat. He typed something and then erased it. He didn't want to bother All Might, who was probably busy doing… well, whatever heroes did. If he wasn't saving people, maybe he was making public appearances or getting cats out of trees or something.

No, Izuku decided, closing his messages. He wouldn't text All Might unless he was texted first. It'd be too weird.

After a minute of staring, Izuku reopened his messages.

 _ **You 1:30 PM**_

 _Hey_

Izuku closed his texts again after that, tossing his phone to the side and plopping back on his bed. All Might probably wouldn't reply.

It was then, staring at the ceiling, that Izuku realized how terribly lonely he felt. All Might had been the first person Izuku had really talked to outside of his little circle in Chimera.

Really, really talked to, not like the mindless exchange when Izuku was buying something, or an apology when Izuku passed someone. All Might could've been another one of those faceless people, if they hadn't run into that sludge villain.

"Huh," Izuku murmured.

He wanted his mom. He wanted to hear her voice again. Or Kacchan, or all the other kids he'd grown up with.

Before Izuku could spiral down a trail of what ifs, his phone buzzed. Izuku sat up.

 _ **Yagi Toshinori 1:34 PM**_

 _Hello, young Akatani_

 _ **You 1:35 PM**_

 _You actually replied_

 _ **Yagi Toshinori 1:35 PM**_

 _Yes?_

 _ **Yagi Toshinori 1:36 PM**_

 _Did you need something?_

"Uh…"

Izuku tried to think of something to say. He really hadn't expected All Might to reply, much less what he wanted.

 _ **You 1:40 PM**_

 _Nothing, sorry to bother._

 _ **You 1:41 PM**_

 _Never mind. Sorry_

 _ **Yagi Toshinori 1:43 PM**_

 _I'm not busy or bothered at all. Not doing much at the moment. No need to apologize._

 _ **Yagi Toshinori 1:50 PM**_

 _Are you busy?_

 _ **You 1:51 PM**_

 _No?_

 _ **Yagi Toshinori 1:52 PM**_

 _Why don't we meet at Dagobah Beach? Since we're both available, we may as well start training today._

 _ **You 1:53 PM**_

 _Right now_

 _ **You 1:53 PM**_

 _Like, right now, right now? Right now_

 _ **You 1:53 PM**_

 _Are you sure?_

 _ **Yagi Toshinori 1:54 PM**_

 _I don't see why not._

 _ **You 1:55 PM**_

 _Okay! I'll meet you there!_

"Dagobah Beach," Izuku mused. "Dagobah Beach… why Dagobah…?"

Izuku changed into a set of light workout clothes and packed a light bag.

He slid the window open and poked his head out to survey the building. He was on the second floor, so it wasn't too far to the ground. There was a pipe railing that ran down nearby.

Izuku tracked his path to the ground and then carefully climbed out. He balanced easily on the windowsill as he shut the window behind him. Then Izuku leapt the short distance to the pipe, heart in his throat, and slid choppily to the ground.

He waited a few seconds just to make sure no one had followed him. Chimera didn't care much what Izuku did in his free time, as long as it wasn't ratting everyone out. Izuku still liked to be careful.

Izuku put on music as he jogged to the beach. He wasn't sure why All Might had chosen Dagobah, of all places.

Mom had said it'd once been a beautiful beach. She'd gone there as a kid every now and then to play in the water. But over time trash had collected, a mix of the tug of the ocean and the accumulation of litter.

Izuku had never been. It wasn't particularly attractive.

All Might was waiting for him when Izuku jogged up. He hadn't sweat too much, thankfully, nor had the jog been hard.

"Afternoon, young Akatani."

Izuku came to a stop, getting his water.

"Good afternoon, All Might."

All Might smiled, eyes crinkling at the corners.

"Good," he said, appraising Izuku. "You came prepared."

"Uh, yeah."

Izuku stopped to take a look around. He found his jaw dropping when he finally caught his first good look at Dagobah Beach.

It was worse than he'd imagined. Wherever Izuku looked, he could only see mounds and mounds of trash. There was no sand—if he squinted, he could make out pockets of golden white. The beach was covered in all sorts of junk. Izuku spotted the shell of an old car, cans and bottles, a tattered schoolbook. Anything and everything nobody wanted.

"Sad, isn't it," All Might remarked. He crossed his thin arms over his chest. "All of this trash has collected here over the years."

"Yeah..." Izuku couldn't muster up any words in response to the sight. It only made him feel sad, that people had let a beach come to this.

He turned the thought over in his head a couple of times.

"So, why come here to train?"

All Might grinned, light shining in his eyes.

"Remember, we don't want your limbs to blow off."

"How could I forget," Izuku said plainly. He hadn't really wanted a reminder.

"Right. So you're going to clean this beach."

Izuku whipped around to stare at All Might so quickly he thought he'd almost fall over.

"Clean the beach?"

The beach stretched on and on, a line of darkness against the distant ocean. Izuku could hardly imagine making a dent in one pile of trash, much less the entire beach.

All Might nodded.

Izuku gestured at the beach. "Do you see this?"

All Might nodded.

"Do you see how small I am?"

All Might nodded.

"The whole beach?"

All Might nodded.

Izuku must have made a face, because All Might laughed.

"You're fast," he said, "and I can tell you know at least the basics of fighting, which is good. But to take on One for All, you must be _strong_!"

"Uh-huh."

"That's why I brought you here," All Might explained, "since you need to build muscle. Cleaning the beach will engage your entire body and turn you from a string bean to, well, something much better!"

Izuku made an indignant noise. "I'm not a string bean!"

All Might clapped him on the shoulder so hard Izuku stumbled forward a few steps. "You are."

"Am not," Izuku said, stomping his foot a little childishly.

"You are," All Might said, then continued jovially. "Not only will cleaning the beach give you strength, but _this_ is the foundation of heroics. Heroes didn't always engage in flashy fights with villains or stop criminals. That isn't our true purpose, do you see?"

"True purpose…?"

All Might smiled brilliantly, but he looked almost sad. "My predecessor taught me that a true hero's purpose is to serve the people, to help people in their times of need."

"So it wasn't always fighting," Izuku pondered slowly. "But, like… community service?"

All Might snapped his fingers. "Exactly."

"Huh…"

Izuku had never really considered how heroes helped people outside of saving them. News reporters didn't care for these things. He supposed they weren't quite exciting enough.

It was exciting in a different way, Izuku decided. Cleaning the beach wasn't going to make him jump for joy, but instead it would force him to think about why he wanted to be a hero in the first place.

"You're getting it," All Might said kindly. Then he raised a brow. "But this beach won't clean itself. We'd better get to work."

They started out small. Izuku wasn't sure what he could and couldn't move or carry, so the two of them spent the entire afternoon testing his limits.

 _We_ , as Izuku realized, was not so much plural as it was singular. _We_ really only referred to Izuku. All Might found a dry and relatively safe place to sit after a while and called encouragements from his perch. Izuku, on the other hand, lugged trash back and forth.

Izuku had to keep reminding himself why he was doing all of it. He wanted to be a hero. He wanted to help people, like All Might.

But the truth was that hauling trash got boring. Izuku started making mental lists: how many coffee cups he saw (thirteen), things that Silver would like (a set of marbles, a book about bugs, a looking glass), what the grossest thing Izuku had touched was (currently, a homework booklet). Even that got old after a while.

"So," Izuku called as he dragged a table through the sand. He paused, panting. "So, uh, what's your favorite drink?"

All Might, who had been seeing how many different things he could crush in one hand, glanced over.

"My favorite… drink?"

Izuku dragged the table a little further. "Yeah!"

All Might seemed to think about it for a moment. "I don't drink anything besides water these days…" He tilted his head, considering the question, "but back when I did, I liked barley tea."

He followed Izuku. "What about you?"

"Hmm? Oh, my favorite drink? I like cherry soda."

All Might nodded slowly. "I can't say I've ever had it."

"Don't know why I like it so much," Izuku said, heaving the table up into the back of the waiting truck. "But I get it with Silver all the time."

"Silver?"

Izuku cursed himself silently. He'd let her name slip without even thinking. At the very least, though, All Might wouldn't recognize it for what it was, even if he'd found it a little strange.

Silver, of course, was a shortened version of the Silver Scorpion. She'd never shared her real name with him, but Izuku figured whatever her life had been like before wasn't something she particularly liked talking about.

"That's just what I call her," Izuku explained, still furious. "Um, it's because that's her favorite color."

That was a total lie. Silver's favorite color was green, followed by purple.

Her name came from her silver-tipped tail, deadly if she got it in you. A venom that worked its way through the system in a matter of minutes, depending on how much was injected into the blood.

"I see," All Might said slowly. "You said cherry soda?"

"Yeah," Izuku said.

He looked back at where he'd been working the entire day and found himself tired. It didn't even look like Izuku had made a dent. He couldn't tell where he'd chipped away at.

Above the piles of trash, the sun was beginning to set. Izuku could just barely make out the ocean, reflecting dazzling colors.

"Don't be discouraged," All Might said. He took a seat in the back of the truck next to Izuku. "It's only the first day. Think… next year, all of this will be gone."

"Yeah," Izuku said quietly. "Things are changing."

"That they are," All Might agreed.

For the better or for the worse, Izuku didn't know, but he hoped it was for the better. He desperately wanted it to be.

"I think we're done for the day," All Might said finally after a stretch of silence.

Izuku sighed in relief, lying down on the road. He wasn't planning on moving for a while.

"Hey, get up."

"No," Izuku groaned. His body ached. He was tired, sweaty, and hungry. There was no way Izuku was moving.

"Young Akatani," All Might said. Izuku rolled over. He got up slowly, sighing.

Izuku stuck his hands in his pockets, kicking at the gravel.

"I… guess I'll see you?"

"Until next time, young Akatani."

Izuku bowed. "Thank you, All Might."

Silver texted him on the road back, offering to meet for an early dinner.

They met in a corner of a busy fast food restaurant. Izuku picked at his fries as Silver went through her burger. He couldn't believe he'd spent the entire afternoon training with All Might.

"What were you up to?"

"Ugh," Izuku groaned. He shoveled a few fries in his mouth at once, and Silver made a face.

"You look… how do I say this? Like Bonestealer just kicked your butt."

Izuku tried to speak through chewing, but it didn't quite work. He swallowed and tried again.

"Trying some new training."

"Yeah?"

"It sucks," Izuku muttered. "Well, it's going to be great. It just sucks."

Silver raised her soda. "Cheers to that."

They knocked their cups together and drank.

"What did…" Izuku tilted his head, "...you know, want?"

Silver hummed. She stirred her straw around absentmindedly.

"That sidekick, Reflekta. They want me to take him out."

Izuku's blood ran cold. "Kill him?"

She shook her head. "Just knock him out of commission for a while," she confided, "but I don't think he's the real target."

Izuku leaned forward, suddenly interested.

"Really?"

"I haven't gotten much of a chance to look into it. But get this. The agency Reflekta works at is connected to U.A."

Izuku paled. "U.A.? But what…?"

"I don't know what Chimera wants with U.A. Well, outside of the usual, anyway, but they've taken an interest lately. It's connected to whatever new group we're working with."

Izuku racked his mind, thinking. "Do you know who?"

Silver shook her head. "I'm not even really supposed to know about it."

"I think Miss Guidance mentioned something," Izuku said slowly. _New friends_ , she'd called them. "But I don't know anything, either."

Silver shrugged. "Well, you know how it is."

Izuku had another fry and chewed thoughtfully. So it was all connected somehow?

But nobody knew All Might was going to be a teacher at U.A. At least, not yet—Izuku planned on waiting another month before he revealed that particular bit of information.

"Weird," Izuku said.

"Yeah," Silver replied, stealing a fry from him, "but we just gotta do what we're told, I guess."

The conversation turned. Silver and Izuku discussed the hero raid on the factory from the other night, speculating what had tipped them off.

"It wasn't me, I swear," Izuku said, "and I don't know how he found us, either."

"I mean, he could've followed you back. You've been tracking him, haven't you?"

"I guess," Izuku conceded, but the thought made him shift uncomfortably. He didn't like the idea that he'd been caught. He'd worked hard to be able to slide under the radar, so the idea that he'd been compromised was a hard pill to swallow.

"What'd you say his name was again, Eraserhead?"

"Yeah. His Quirk, though…"

"I know," Silver said, her eyes lighting up, "I'd love to see it in action. I wonder how it works?"

"Well, I think he has to be able to see you."

"Line of sight, huh? Do you think he can erase multiple Quirks at once?"

"He'd be incredibly powerful to do that. And maybe more well known."

Silver raised a finger. "I don't think so. He's an underground. His job is to clean up after all the other pro heroes, do the dirty work. It's better if no one knew a thing."

Izuku rubbed at his face. She was right.

He turned his memory back to his encounter with Eraserhead. The hero had been shocked to see Izuku. He hoped the fight and the fire had obscured his face—he hadn't been able to use his Quirk, so it was possible Izuku could be recognized. He'd have to be more careful.

"Think he'll come back?"

"Huh?"

"Eraserhead." Silver looked strangely solemn. "Do you think he'll come back after us?"

"Why? You don't care that much."

"Oh, he's the most mildly interesting opposition we've had in a long time, don't you think? I'd love to take him in a fight."

"Be my guest."

Silver flicked him with her tail. "Hey, we can't all be heroes."

Izuku shook his head, leaning back and looking out the window. "We can certainly try."


	4. Chapter 4

**Flare Signal**  
 _chapter four_

* * *

Izuku felt like days were passing by quicker than he could keep up with. He'd blink, and a week was gone, then a month, then another.

Chimera seemed like it was growing more restless, a roaring beast chained but straining to break free. Izuku took to avoiding Hisashi when he could, unable to sit still whenever they were in the same room.

It didn't help that Izuku found himself spending more and more time with All Might. With each day that passed, Izuku found himself growing stronger, clearing more and more of the beach.

He _also_ found himself with a bit of a problem.

Somewhere along the way All Might had stopped being, well, All Might, and started just being Toshinori.

"You don't have to keep calling me All Might, you know."

Izuku tripped over a pair of old shoes. "What?"

"You don't have to keep calling me All Might. Just… call me Toshinori."

Izuku slowly turned so he could look at his mentor. He was sitting in a small, shaded area, and he smiled when he saw Izuku look over.

"Toshinori," Izuku tried. It was— nice, he thought. He couldn't tell.

"Um," Izuku said, "I guess you can call me Mikumi? To make it even."

All Might—Toshinori, his mind supplied—waved a hand dismissively. Izuku felt bad for lying when he'd just been asked to use All Might's real name, like they were close on some level.

But they were.

Looking back, things had changed since the beginning. Their conversations had evolved from training and heroics to all sorts of things. They shared a love for cats. Toshinori liked to read, though he didn't do it often due to his work. He liked people a lot, which came as no surprise.

Izuku himself wasn't a fan of attention. Attention felt dangerous. He liked the anonymity of being nameless in a large crowd. Toshinori, on the other hand, thrived. He wasn't the most eloquent person Izuku had ever met, nor the brightest, but he had a way with people Izuku was envious of.

They spent time together outside of training, too.

It wasn't often. They were both busy people (for ironically opposite reasons), but every now and then, they had lunch together.

Silver noticed. He'd never really been able to hide anything from her.

"I'm not going to ask," she told him bluntly from her perch on Izuku's bed. "That'd probably hurt us both. It's better if I don't know."

"So don't," Izuku replied, hoping that would be the end of it.

Silver propped her chin on her hands, watching him as he practiced.

"Make me again."

Izuku obeyed, trying to craft his new illusion into Silver's shape. It started like a mass of grey smoke, but slowly the details began to emerge. Silver's boots, battered and scribbled over with permanent marker. The hard lines of her body. The plain, dark clothes. Her face, her hands, her barbed tail, the slight slump of her shoulders.

"Wow," Silver said softly. She pushed off the bed and circled the illusion. "Pretty good."

She stood next to it. "Can you tell the difference?"

Izuku rolled his eyes. "I know which is which, Silver. I think I'm getting better at making living forms, but you can still see— do you see, like, it looks flat."

"Yeah, like it's not quite…"

"Real?"

Silver snorted. She passed a hand through the illusion, and it dissolved.

"You're making progress, at least. Anyway, whatever you're doing, it's noticeable."

"Making illusions?"

"Dumbass. No, your whole training thing, or whatever. And you've changed."

Izuku looked at himself. Things had changed so quickly, but he wasn't sure it was noticeable.

"Have—"

"No, they've been too busy. And I'm not talking about your whole body transformation thing, by the way, though it's nice you're putting something onto your twig body."

Izuku threw up his hands. "I'm not a twig!"

"Not anymore."

" _Silver_."

"You seem happier."

"I… what?"

Silver plopped down on the ground next to him, crossing her legs. "You seem happier," she repeated. "A lot more than before, don't you think?"

"I…" Izuku faltered. "I guess I am?"

Silver smiled.

"I'm glad you are," she said, "but you need to be more careful. Hisashi's going to notice one of these days, and he's going to start asking questions. Whatever you're up to, you need to, like… tone it down, I guess."

"I don't really know how to," Izuku paused, "tone it down."

"Well, you could maybe start by changing your schedule."

They chatted and teased each other for a few minutes before they were interrupted by a knock on the door.

"Hisashi," Izuku said. "You've got to go."

Silver was already halfway out the window. She dropped out of sight as the door pushed inward.

"Izuku," Hisashi said, "come with me."

"Uh," Izuku started. He didn't really have a choice, though, so with one last glance at the still-open window, Izuku left. He made sure to shut the door firmly behind him.

Hisashi strode down the hall to the conference room. The other heads of Chimera weren't there, which was great. Izuku loved father-son talks.

"So, uh, um," Izuku said, but the words died in his throat.

Hisashi sat down. Izuku stayed as close to the door as he could, choosing to stand instead. For a while Hisashi didn't speak.

"You will be the head of Chimera someday."

A gaping pit opened in Izuku's stomach. He didn't want to be here, anywhere but. He wanted to be hanging out with Silver, or training with Toshinori. Not here.

"B-but not, um, not today, right?" Izuku blurted. "I really don't think that's a good idea. You know."

Hisashi huffed, smoke curling in the air in front of him.

"Not today," he agreed, "but we've been discussing a new course of action for you, Izuku."

Izuku didn't particularly like the sound of that.

"You… you have?"

"Is the information you've given us on All Might still correct? He will be a teacher at U.A. in the upcoming year?"

Izuku nodded, not trusting himself to speak. The information had gone public not too long ago, and Izuku had double-checked with Toshinori and U.A. interviews both to be sure before he'd told Chimera.

Hisashi procured a set of papers and held them out. Izuku stepped forward to take them hesitantly, unsure of what he would find.

When he scanned the first few lines, he almost dropped the papers.

"I… you?"

Hisashi tipped his head back and released a slow, steady stream of fire with an exhale of his lungs. He considered Izuku through half-lidded eyes.

"Enrolling you in U.A. will put you in a position to watch All Might daily if he's teaching the hero course, as well as open connections with other pro heroes we've taken interest in. Silver is too old and more easily recognizable, but you will fit in easily."

Izuku rubbed at his eyes and blinked several times.

"You're… serious."

Hisashi nodded once. The corner of his lip quirked up.

"You'll get to play hero, Izuku." The look in his eye turned almost distant and soft. He chuckled. "You used to when you were younger. You always made me play villain."

Izuku trembled. "Don't pretend you— care, Hisashi."

Hisashi blinked curiously at him, long and slow like a cat.

"...Alright," he said finally. "You'll attempt for the hero course in the upcoming entrance exams. Your Quirk may not be combat-suited—or fit for the entrance exams, for that matter—but your skill is far better than your peers. I doubt you'll have any issues."

Izuku swallowed. "I'm going up against people with incredibly powerful Quirks, and I'll be essentially Quirkless."

Izuku suddenly remembered that he wouldn't be. Stepping into the entrance exams, he'd have _two_ Quirks, though how useful they would be at that point remained to be seen.

"You're smart and adaptable. You'll find a way, I'm sure."

Izuku swallowed again, his voice weak when he spoke. "Okay. Sure. Yeah."

"You'll be continuing your training, of course," Hisashi said, "and Bonestealer will be overseeing your progress."

Izuku tried not to sigh.

There was a tapping sound from the doorway. Bonestealer, tapping their cane against the frame.

"You called?"

"Funny," Hisashi said lightly.

"Come with me, Izuku," Bonestealer said, beckoning. "We have plans and not nearly enough time to go through with all of them."

Izuku frowned at Bonstealer's retreating back but followed nonetheless. He was in for a rough few days, then. Bonestealer was ruthless and unrelenting, and suddenly Izuku remembered he was due to train with Toshinori the following day. He'd run himself into the ground by the end of the week, but it wasn't like Izuku had any choice.

Not if he wanted to get better. Not if he had to make it into U.A.: for Toshinori, for Chimera, for himself.

"It's been a while, hasn't it," Bonestealer commented. The two began their descent down a set of stairs, then another, to the basement. There was an entire floor hidden underneath, connected to the sewers. This was where Chimera conducted business, and where Bonestealer trained Izuku.

With the activity that had cropped up over the past few months, Izuku's training—with Bonestealer, at least—had been less and less often.

He'd be out of practice for the first few rounds at the very least.

They entered into a musty practice room. Simple and bare, the room had a padded floor with plain walls, lit brightly by a set of lights overhead. One wall held equipment, but it was otherwise empty. Spotless.

Bonestealer took off the tailored purple jacket they'd been wearing, tossing it to the side to reveal a light shirt and dark, scarred arms. They ran a hand through their cropped hair and smiled.

"Let's see where you're at, kid."

They beckoned with their hands, the universal gesture of _Come at me._

Izuku took a second, circling as ideas flitted through his head. Bonestealer wouldn't attack first, so it gave him a moment.

Bonestealer tracked him as he moved. Izuku tried to fall into a guarded but casual pattern, holding on his attacks in the hopes that Bonestealer would be lulled into the anticipation.

Then he struck out with a foot, trying to sweep Bonestealer to the ground. Bonestealer danced out of the way, and the fight began.

After that, there was no time to think.

Izuku tasted rust when Bonestealer clipped him across the face. He lost his sight and stumbled.

A hand shot out, and bony fingers wrapped around Izuku's wrists. A numbness began at the touch, crawling up his arm.

Izuku wrenched himself free. He kicked out. Bonestealer dodged.

His arm prickled with pain as it regained feeling. Izuku felt the impact when he hit the ground, rolling as a boot snapped down where his ribs would've been.

Izuku panted, scrabbling at Bonstealer's ankles. He caught them and twisted, sending his opponent to the ground.

Sweat stuck to Izuku's shirt, pressing it tight to his skin. He could feel his lungs grating as he sucked in a breath of air.

Bonestealer was up in seconds, not even granting Izuku a moment of reprieve. He dodged the first hit aimed at him but not the second and found himself sprawled on the ground.

"Out of practice, boy," Bonestealer chuckled. Izuku gasped in pain when he was kicked, once, then again, leaving him breathless.

A hand pressed against his arm, and that terrible and familiar feeling began to make itself known again. Izuku struggled, pushing upwards, but Bonstealer was strong. Even with the new muscle Izuku had packed on in the last few months, he was no match for Bonestealer.

The numbness spread. Izuku lost feeling in his right arm. His hand, gone. Fingers, wrist, forearm, shoulder. All of the feeling gone as Bonestealer's Quirk crept through his body.

Izuku kicked out blindly but connected. There was a loud crack as he hit, and Bonestealer snarled as they were sent back.

He clambered to his feet, arm limp as his side. Survive. That was what Izuku need to do: survive.

Pain pulsed at Izuku's side where he'd been hit. He pressed his free hand to it and limped slowly in a circle, trying to keep up the defense. Bonestealer came at him again, hunger in their dark eyes.

Sweat dripped from the hair at the nape of his neck. Bonestealer lunged, hands like outstretched claws. Izuku threw himself back desperately. Bonestealer only continued to advance.

The floor shifted, soft under his feet; Izuku kept backing away until his shoulders collided when something hard.

The wall. He'd hit the wall.

Bonestealer lunged again. Izuku flung himself to the side. There was a tearing sound and a fluttering strip of white as fingers grazed his skin. Undeterred, Bonestealer slammed the heel of their hand into Izuku's stomach—he heaved, breathless—

A sharp, stabbing pain in his leg, then numbness—

Izuku's knees gave out, and he dropped. Bonestealer was there, a cold hand pressed to Izuku's throat but Quirk inactivated.

Izuku wheezed.

"You win," he coughed out.

The pressure on his throat disappeared, but Izuku laid there for a moment, breathing. He regained the feeling in his body slowly: the lax muscles, the aching in his ribs, the pinpricks at the ends of his fingers.

"That was terrible, kid," Bonestealer commented. Izuku sat up slowly, pressing a hand to his side and hissing with pain.

"Yeah," Izuku coughed. "I noticed."

Bonestealer waited until Izuku climbed slowly to his feet. He took off his torn, ruined shirt and tossed it to the side.

"Again," Bonestealer snapped.

Izuku hit the ground, breathless.

"Again."

His eyes watered as pain burst across his shoulder.

"Again."

Sweat, down his back.

"Again."

Blood warm in his mouth.

Again, again, until Izuku was worn to the bone and aching.

Bonestealer left him on the floor counting his breaths. Izuku waited until Bonestealer's footsteps had disappeared before he pushed himself upright, tottering for a moment unsteadily. Then he wiped a hand over his face and began the slow trudge back to his room.

It was late afternoon already, Izuku figured. He shut his door shut behind him and stripped out of his clothes, tossing them to the side.

Taking a quick shower helped, easing his sore muscles and erasing the dirt and hint of blood. It'd be worse in the morning, Izuku thought, examining himself in the mirror. It was always worse in the morning.

He pressed gently against the places that hurt. Nothing broken, of course. The pain would last, but Bonestealer knew how to hurt him while keeping Izuku functional.

Izuku felt a million times better after he'd changed into a set of fresh clothes and was off on a hunt for an afternoon snack. Bonestealer had sapped all the energy right out of him, and he wanted it back.

Food, then a nap. That sounded nice.

Izuku left the building, deciding to take a walk down the street to a nearby gas station. The bell jangled as he walked in, getting a bag of chips and then mournfully putting them back. Instead Izuku took something that was only marginally healthier and a soda.

Izuku had his snack sitting on the curb, watching as the world passed him by. It was nice, moments like these. Izuku liked being a nobody, just existing as a part of a whole. He liked looking at people and imagining what their lives were like, or what their dreams were.

Toshinori texted him as he was enjoying his break.

 _ **Toshinori 5:12 PM**_

 _:) Down for some training?_

Izuku groaned. He wasn't sure he'd be able to, but the offer sounded really, really nice.

 _ **You 5:15 PM**_

 _Yeah..._

 _ **Toshinori 5:17 PM**_

 _Great!_

Izuku decided he was going to regret it, but he got up, dusting the crumbs of his snack off of his jeans anyway. There was no use in just sitting around, even if it was nice. And Izuku always liked spending time with Toshinori.

Izuku took his time going to Dagobah Beach. Not really because he wanted to, but because the aftermath of Bonestealer's training had Izuku limping the entire way.

"You look rough," Toshinori commented when he set eyes on Izuku. "You alright?"

Izuku shrugged. He tugged at his collar, adjusting the shirt so it covered the angry red marks on his skin. They wouldn't be noticable bruises for a while yet, but it was still there.

"Fine," he said.

Toshinori looked unimpressed.

"R- _really_ ," Izuku tried. To be honest with himself, it was kind of difficult to argue. Izuku just felt—tired, mostly, and drained.

"Maybe we should pass on the training today."

Izuku squinted. "We never… what, why?"

Toshinori found a clear patch of sand and sat down cross-legged. He patted the areas next to him.

"I learned something, you know," he said conversationally, "no one can go on forever, as much as we'd like to."

Izuku let out a heavy sigh and plopped down on the sand next to Toshinori.

"If you're doing extra training, just… let me know, my boy. Don't push yourself so much."

Izuku watched a bug scuttle across the sand. "I need to be better."

Toshinori shook his head, brow furrowed. He picked up a twig and twirled it between his fingers for a moment. Then he used the stick to point at the area around them.

"Do you see?"

Izuku looked. There was the section of the beach Izuku had cleaned… but beyond that Izuku saw more work to do. He was suddenly struck with the thought that he was running out of time to prepare for U.A.

"See what?"

Toshinori tilted his head. "Progress."

Izuku dropped his gaze and fiddled with his shoelaces. "But—"

"You've improved immensely over the past few months," Toshinori said, and there was a bright note in his voice, "and I have no doubt you will continue to grow, my boy. Look at what you have achieved already. Do you see?"

"I guess…"

Toshinori gestured widely. "Part of progress is taking care of yourself—hrk!"

He broke into a coughing fit, pressing the back of his hand to his mouth. Izuku flitted around anxiously without a handkerchief or napkin to offer. Toshinori wiped at his mouth and waved Izuku off.

"You, too," Izuku said quietly. He lifted his eyes to meet Toshinori's. "Should take care of yourself, I mean."

Toshinori patted his shoulder. "Thank you, young Akatani."

Izuku leaned back on his hands, digging his fingers into the warm sand. He considered Toshinori's words—Izuku wasn't sure he'd be able to apply them, but he'd try.

"—of each other, then."

"Huh?"

Toshinori chuckled. He reached out to ruffle Izuku's hair. "I said, we'll have to take care of each other, then."

"Oh," Izuku whispered. He ducked his head, feeling heat creep up his neck and across his face. "...Yeah."

Izuku closed his eyes, enjoying the last rays of warm sun and the gentle breeze that ran its fingers through his hair. He couldn't remember when he'd last felt so… safe, maybe?

"Can I ask you a question?"

"That wasn't one?" Toshinori countered.

Izuku opened his eyes and sat up, pouting. "You know what I mean. But you don't have to answer if you don't want to."

"Ask away."

"What…" Izuku licked his lips, knowing he was about to broach a sensitive topic. "What was your predecessor like? The seventh wielder?"

Toshinori tensed. In a moment the light seemed to have left him.

It was something Izuku had tried to ask about a few times. Toshinori was a frustratingly private person—which Izuku himself found no problem with. It would've been hypocritical, to expect something Izuku couldn't reciprocate.

Still, One for All was a topic Toshinori was reluctant to talk about. Considering One for All was the Quirk Izuku was going to inherit, he wasn't sure he liked how little information he had about it. As the Quirk Izuku was supposed to be analyzing, he was more than fine knowing next to nothing except that it was "extremely powerful" and looked like some form of "strength augmentation."

"Better than I could be," Toshinori said, "but I strive to be more like her."

There was a note of finality in his voice, so Izuku didn't press further. He wondered what she was like, if she would've liked him. How many times they had passed each other by.

The tables turned when Toshinori asked about Izuku's father. He kept his answers short and vague, but hopefully not terrible. He had to make sure no one suspected anything.

Eventually they steered the conversation into gentler waters. They talked about Toshinori's new occupation.

"Interesting," Toshinori said, when Izuku asked. He made a face. "Aizawa doesn't like me much, though."

Izuku's interest piqued. "Aizawa?"

Toshinori sighed. He muttered something about sleeping under his breath and then said, "Yeah. He'll be your homeroom teacher… certainly quite a character."

"Is he a pro hero?"

Toshinori nodded. "You wouldn't recognize him. He's an underground hero."

"Try me," Izuku said.

The name wasn't ringing any bells, but different pro heroes had different approaches to how much of their private lives were public. Some heroes were very open about their families and lives outside of hero work. Some heroes, like Toshinori, were completely closed off to the public. Most heroes, though, were somewhere in-between.

"Eraserhead," Toshinori said. "His Quirk is… good for underground work, I guess, not really my style, but uh, yes."

Izuku suppressed the flicker of panic that sparked inside of him. He shoved it down, taking in a breath.

"Huh," Izuku said, surprised at how steadily his voice came out. "Don't recognize him."

Izuku made a mental note to look into the staff of U.A. before going in for the exam. He'd need to figure out who had connections to Chimera, if any, and a list of people he could hopefully avoid.

"Didn't think so. Hopefully he'll like you," Toshinori said. He coughed. "Hopefully you'll like him."

"Hmm," Izuku hummed. He looked at the distant sky. "Sun's going down."

"Ah… it's getting late," Toshinori said. "You don't take the train, do you?"

Izuku shook his head. He found his hoodie and slipped it over his head, then slung his bag over his shoulders.

"I'll walk home," Izuku said. He checked his phone - it _was_ getting late, but so long as Izuku was back before anyone else noticed, he'd be fine. And the page of information he'd memorized would be enough to tide him over if he did get in trouble.

Toshinori's brows knit together. "Do you want me to accompany you home?" His mouth tugged up in a half smile the way it did when he was teasing. "Maybe meet your mysterious father?"

Izuku flinched. All Might and the Dragon _meeting_? Or, better yet, Yagi Toshinori and Midoriya Hisashi, bitter enemies blissfully unaware of the other's identity and humoring Izuku. Izuku didn't know if he wanted to laugh or puke at the thought of the three of them having tea, much less existing in the same room.

"My boy?" Toshinori had gone back to being concerned. "I apologize, I shouldn't have-"

"No, no, I mean, it's, it's okay," Izuku said in a rush, holding his hands out. "It's just not, it's not, he, ah."

 _Shut up. Shut up, stop talking, don't say another word. You've said too much, you've implied too much._

Toshinori smiled encouragingly, and Izuku felt sick. He had to _think_ , or else Toshinori would _suspect_. All Might or not...

"He doesn't know about, um," Izuku said, fumbling with a response. Deep breath. "My father doesn't approve of me being a hero. I mean I think I told you that. He, uh, he's a, he's a businessman. Um. Yeah, a businessman."

That was the _worst_ lie Izuku had spit out in a while. A _businessman?_ What did Hisashi sell—barbecue?

"Oh," Toshinori said finally. "I didn't know. I'm not sure I've heard the name before."

"You wouldn't have," Izuku said, heart hammering in his chest. "It's a little bit, um, quieter, you know, haha, one of those ones."

Oops.

Toshinori's eyes lit with understanding.

"I see," he boomed, and Izuku glanced around out of habit and found no one around.

Izuku tried for a reassuring smile. It felt more like he was stretching his face thin, but it seemed to help.

"Well, it's about time to part ways, my boy."

Izuku's heart sunk in his chest. Now that he wasn't spitting lies, he could spot fondness in Toshinori's tone. Could look at his face and see someone who cared: there in his drawn eyebrows, in the crinkle by his eyes, in a soft smile Izuku was sure Hisashi had never given him. He didn't want to leave.

Toshinori mistook his hesitation.

"Young Akatani…" he started, but Izuku couldn't look at him without bursting into tears. A hand settled on his shoulder. "Mikumi."

Izuku flicked his gaze up.

"Regardless of what your father thinks," Toshinori said gently, " _I_ think you will be a great hero. Have hope. One day, he'll see what I see in you."

"Thank you," Izuku whispered. His eyes burned as Toshinori squeezed his shoulder and then drew him into a loose hug.

He couldn't find the courage to say that was exactly what he was afraid of.


	5. Chapter 5

**Flare Signal**  
chapter five

* * *

"Is this really the only way to do this? Can't I… drink your blood or something?"

Izuku was staring cross-eyed at the piece of hair being offered to him. It was nice, he supposed, if one excluded the fact that Toshinori actually expected him to put it in his mouth. And eat it.

Toshinori looked vaguely uncomfortable with that thought.

"Don't make this weird."

Izuku squawked. "Don't make this weird? This is already weird!"

Toshinori sighed. "Don't make this weirder than it has to be, then."

"I'm eating your hair."

"It's the fastest way for you to ingest my DNA. One for All will take a while to appear in your system, which is why it's so early. Just… do it."

"Just eat it," Izuku mimicked half-heartedly. Begrudgingly, he plucked the strand of hair from Toshinori's fingers. Before he could regret it, he stuck it in his mouth and swallowed hard.

"That was awful," he gagged after it'd gone down. "I still think blood would've been better."

"No matter!" Toshinori said, suddenly cheerful. "It's done—you carry within you now One for All, passed down from hero to hero. Its ninth wielder."

He was smiling widely. Izuku still felt like there was hair between his teeth even though there wasn't, but he tried to match Toshinori's smile.

"So… see you later?"

Toshinori had told him One for All would take at least an hour before Izuku would be able to use it, if not longer. They'd scheduled to meet again in a while so Izuku could test it out, which made him incredibly nervous.

He suddenly realized he was carrying within him a power that was both vast and ancient. A power that had started before him and would last long after him. Izuku shivered.

Toshinori coughed into his hand. "Yes. Do be careful… don't try to smash anything without me."

"Uh," Izuku said, "Okay."

With an hour to kill, Izuku went on his next mission: shopping.

They were still two months out from the U.A. entrance exams, and Izuku found his life in a constant flurry of activity.

He'd finally finished cleaning up Dagobah Beach the week before. It'd been an emotional moment, staring across the expanse of sand and realizing he'd finally done it. To know that ten months ago, he hadn't even known where to start. Now, Izuku could lift and carry things with ease.

The two had strolled along a short length of the beach and marvelled at the feeling of soft sand under their feet. The thought made him smile still.

Bonestealer had increased their own training. It wasn't over yet, but Izuku was proud of himself. He'd gotten faster and stronger. Though Bonestealer's experience and Quirk made them a tough opponent to face, Izuku had learned to hold his own. Compared to the average heroes studies student or civilian, Izuku figured his fighting was leagues ahead, even if his Quirk wasn't.

Izuku walked to the nearest set of stores and began his journey. He really needed new clothes; he'd grown out of his old ones.

It was easy to pick out plain, unassuming clothes. Plain colored shirts and pants, mostly black and grey. Then Izuku plucked off a few graphic shirts, admiring the design of them and the bright colors. He wouldn't have normally worn red or blue or yellow, as much as he liked them, but preparing to re-enter the world meant he needed them.

Then Izuku looked for a few other pieces.

You 8:23 AM

Should I get a suit

Silver 8:25 AM

You woke me up to ask me if you should get a suit

Silver 8:26 AM

Why do you need a suit

You 8:30 AM

Look I don't know

Silver 8:31 AM

So don't get one

Silver 8:31 AM

I'm going back to sleep.

She didn't respond to any of his texts after that, so Izuku thought she really was ignoring him and had crawled back under the covers. Typical.

Izuku didn't end up getting a suit—he wasn't sure when he'd wear it, after all—but he did pick up a dark, thin blazer.

A few other, various articles of clothing Izuku thought he might need. Then he lugged all the bags back to the base, dumping clothing item after clothing item on his bed. Then he took out the set of supplies he'd pilfered from Silver and got to work.

After an hour, Izuku wasn't sure he felt any different. He decided to try activating his own Quirk and found it heeded his call easily and without issue. He stood in the cramped bathroom and practiced changing his appearance. It was something Silver had suggested after he'd almost been caught a while ago trying to break into a hero agency.

Izuku had the same idea in the past, but he'd never tried it. Now, with a bit of practice, Izuku was getting better at it.

He tugged on a thread of power running warm through him. In a moment, Izuku's appearance began to shift slightly. His hair grew slightly longer and began to turn lighter, more of a brown color than black. Izuku blinked, and then when he peered closer, he saw blue eyes looking back at him.

Changing his appearance had a few limitations. Small things like hair and eye color were easy to cover. Changing his face shape took a little more concentration, which meant it wasn't sustainable for very long. Making himself shorter or taller wasn't an option at all. He'd have to recreate his entire face and body, way too difficult for him.

Still, the trick was useful. It wouldn't last long, even though the illusion was mostly low-effort. But it was good for getting lost in a crowd, or subtly becoming a different person when he needed.

Izuku let the illusion disappear after admiring himself for a moment. He'd gotten better at the finer points of his control, though there was a ways to go.

He shut his eyes and tried again, reaching for that place deep inside of him where his Quirk seemed to rest. But Izuku reached past it, going deeper, and then found something only describable as bright. The power ripped as Izuku touched it, then enveloped him.

Izuku panicked and pulled back. His eyes flew open as he gasped. He'd felt it—he really had One for All, then. No going back.

It'd felt… endless. Izuku thought it was a little like being on a raft in the middle of the ocean, water on all sides and no land in sight. Caught in between sea and sky, the edges of the two blurring together.

He texted Toshinori with shaking hands—

You 10:13 AM

14-A. Want to meet? 14-A.

Toshinori 10:14 AM

Absolutely.

Izuku headed back to the beach, heart thrumming in his chest. He had One for All. He had One for All.

"I want you to try using One for All," Toshinori said. "Call it to you. Clench your buttcheeks, and from inside your heart, yell smash!"

Toshinori looked so serious that Izuku believed him, though he wasn't sure about feeling it in his heart, clenching his buttcheeks, or shouting smash. Or just using One for All in general. What if something went wrong?

Izuku knew it was going to go wrong, with his luck. He was going to try using it and then not have a grasp on it at all, and then Izuku was just going to look pathetic. Maybe he wasn't ready like Toshinori thought, and he'd call up One for All and explode into a billion pieces.

"Ah, one more thing," Toshinori said. He looked sheepish, scratching his neck. "It may have some… side effects on your body."

His anxiety jumped. "Side… effects…?"

"I can't be sure," Toshinori explained, "but it's possible. I think you're ready, but the power may be a bit… much."

"Okay," Izuku replied, voice one octave higher. "I won't explode, though, right?"

A beat.

"Right?"

"Well—you shouldn't."

Izuku swallowed, balling his hand into a fist and holding it out in front of him. "That's really reassuring."

Toshinori smiled encouragingly. "Go on."

Izuku took a deep breath and found One for All waiting for him. Warmth curled around the pit of his stomach and then spread outwards. He leapt, feeling the full force of his Quirk run through him, and brought his fist down, yelling.

Light.

Pure light.

It wasn't just like an ocean, like the first time. It was a massive tidal wave of pure power, a terrible pulsing storm that swallowed Izuku whole. It was like nothing Izuku had felt before, like nothing he could describe—it was whole, surrounding; it was in every inch of him; it sparked, like lightning, like electricity, like a raging fire.

Izuku felt like he'd gone blind as One for All consumed him.

Then pain splintered up his arm. It started, lancing through his fingers, then shot up the bone, white hot.

"Mikumi!"

Izuku came back to himself. He'd landed instinctively and was crouched in the sand, curling around his arm. Toshinori materialized next to him, kneeling and looking concerned.

Izuku lifted his head slowly. "Um. Ow."

Toshinori's face looked pale. "I was afraid… can you walk?"

He took a moment to center himself. It was a broken arm. A really badly broken arm, but it was a broken arm. Izuku had had worse.

Izuku stood up slowly.

"Yeah," he said, and let his arm flop uselessly to the side. "I'm good. But maybe I could use some first aid."

He didn't dare look too closely at it. He could see a terrible discoloration out of the corner of his eye, and the little moment he'd had cradling his arm was more than enough.

"Right, right," Toshinori said. He looked at the car he had parked and then seemed to reconsider. "Hold on."

Izuku blinked, and All Might was there. He scooped Izuku in his arms and then the two were off, bounding from building to building until they arrived at their destination.

"Woah," Izuku whispered, forgetting his pain for a moment. U.A. was beautiful: tall, glistening buildings that were carefully constructed. The best hero academy Japan had to offer.

Despite his protests, All Might carried him through the building. Izuku craned his neck, trying to get a better glimpse of his surroundings as they passed classroom after classroom.

Izuku was set down after they reached a section labelled 'Infirmary.'

All Might disappeared, smoke coming off his body as he shed his hero form. He put a hand on Izuku's shoulder and steered him forward, looking cautious as he peered into the room.

"Chiyo?"

"Toshinori, is that you? If you've done something stupid—"

An older woman appeared, dressed in a nurse's uniform. But Izuku recognized her immediately.

"Recovery Girl?"

Recovery Girl squinted at him for a moment, then turned to look at Toshinori.

"That's me. And I was right, you really did do something stupid."

Toshinori was cringing. He looked like he wanted to slip out the door, but he remained where he was.

"This is my successor," he said, and Izuku felt warmth pool in his stomach when he heard the pride in Toshinori's voice. "But, ah—we have a problem."

Recovery Girl crossed her arms over her chest.

"Yes, we do." She clucked her tongue, looking over Izuku once and pointing at one of the beds. "Go, sit."

"Ah, Chiyo…"

"Yes, yes," Recovery Girl grumbled. She fixed an exasperated eye on Izuku. "Don't worry, this'll only take a moment, and you'll be good as new. My Quirk will heal your arm, but it'll use your stamina, so don't be too concerned if you start feeling tired afterwards."

"Okay." He didn't have much of an idea what to say.

Recovery Girl seemed satisfied and took his arm gently, lifting it. Then she pressed a kiss to his knuckles.

Izuku was drained immediately. Recovery Girl caught him and made him lie down, telling him to rest quietly for a moment. He hummed in acknowledgement, the pain in his arm gone and an exhaustion settling over him.

Recovery Girl drew the curtain partially around his bed and reached for her cane. She stalked to a nervously-waiting Toshinori.

"Don't look at me like that. He'll be fine."

Toshinori glanced over at Izuku, and his face softened slightly. "Good, good."

"I'm not through with you."

Izuku lost sight of the two as they shuffled somewhere deeper in the infirmary, but he could hear them. There was an impact sound, and Izuku, through his haze, winced. She'd hit him, it seemed, and none-too-gently, either. He winced in sympathy.

There were some quiet words Izuku missed as he zoned out.

"—a fool? Trying to get that boy hurt?"

"No, of course not…"

"That Quirk is too powerful."

"I thought, perhaps…"

"That he could handle it? You may very well have taken easily to it, but you are not the same person as him. You better not…"

The voices drifted out of focus again, becoming too quiet and unintelligible. Izuku stared at the strip of sunlight over the curtain, blinking at it slowly. The soft hum of machinery and rhythm of the distant conversation was soothing.

He'd close his eyes for a minute… just a minute…

The next time Izuku woke, the sunlight from the window had turned brighter and lit the entire room with brightness. It took him a few seconds to remember where he was and to relax back into the bed. Then, when Izuku felt ready, he pushed himself up into a sitting position.

There was no one in his immediate vicinity. Izuku frowned, looking around. His phone was on the table beside him, so he grabbed it, checking for updates. No messages, but he'd gotten a news bite about an interview with Endeavor. Izuku clicked lazily through it and then sat for a moment.

He was just swinging his legs over the side of the bed when the infirmary door swung open.

"Good, you're awake. Rest well?"

Izuku stared at Recovery Girl's uniform, not daring to look at her face, and nodded.

"Toshinori's eating, if you're wondering. I kicked him out. He worries too much."

"At least he does," Izuku mumbled.

Recovery Girl didn't seem to have heard him, which was good. She set down a tray of food Izuku had just noticed and then crossed the room to stand in front of him.

Izuku was checked over for any issues and then given the all-clear.

Recovery Girl did scold him, though. "Do you sleep?"

"Uh… yes…?"

She crossed her arms. "Hmph. Obviously not enough. You slept for longer than I expected."

"Oh."

"Yes, oh. Get some rest when you return home, understand?"

"Yes, Recovery Girl."

She shoved a tray at him—a simple bowl of porridge—and watched him with a close eye until it was all gone. Then she took it away and steered him out of the infirmary with strict instructions that she wasn't going to see him for at least another week.

"I don't expect it to be longer," Recovery Girl told him. "I don't have that much hope for him. We'll see about you."

"Uh?"

"Off you get, go on."

Izuku was dumped into what looked like the U.A. teacher's lounge, blinking confusedly before Toshinori appeared, looking relieved.

"You're alright?"

Izuku stretched his arm out in front of him. It felt fine, like he hadn't even broken it, and it looked okay, too.

"Good as new," Izuku said, peeking up at Toshinori.

"Well, good," Toshinori said. He looked a bit awkward, or maybe ashamed. Izuku wasn't sure which. "Ah… my boy…"

Toshinori seemed to be stumbling over his words, which was rare and usually more Izuku's job than anything.

"I wanted to, uh, apologize," he said finally, "for not better preparing you…"

"Well, well," Izuku interrupted, holding out his hands, "I mean, it's not like we really could know, uh, what would, you know—"

"I thought it would be a possibility…"

"No, no—"

They were interrupted by a less-than happy voice.

"Will you be quiet?"

Izuku stopped mid-sentence, looking around for the source of the voice. Toshinori cringed, but gestured towards the ground.

Izuku looked down, confused, and saw— he wasn't quite sure what he was looking at, if he was being honest. It looked like a giant, yellow caterpillar of some kind. It was a lot less cute magnified by a thousand times, Izuku decided.

Then the caterpillar rolled over, and there was a zipping sound. A face appeared from what Izuku realized was not a caterpillar and was, in fact, a sleeping bag. He leapt back, shocked.

"If you're going to argue," the man said, voice monotone, "or whatever you were doing, go do it somewhere else."

"Ah—apologies, Aizawa."

Aizawa? Izuku knew that name… oh. Aizawa.

He hadn't recognized the pro hero (he was hard pressed to think he could recognize anyone if they were wrapped up like that), but now that Toshinori had put a name to the face, it clicked.

Izuku backpedaled immediately, looking for the nearest exit. He didn't need to be here. The risk that Eraserhead would recognize him was fairly low, but Izuku didn't want to take any chances.

"Hmph." Eraserhead's gaze shifted past Toshinori and landed on Izuku. He froze. "And who are you? You're not one of my students."

"He will be!"

Izuku bared his teeth in what he hoped was a smile. Then Toshinori stopped Izuku from bolting out the door and pushed him forward a little.

"This is Akatani, my protege. Young Akatani, this is Aizawa, class 1-A homeroom teacher."

Izuku nodded silently. He didn't want to be here. Eraserhead, for his part, looked like he didn't want to be here, either. The best thing to do would be to leave, and everyone would be happy.

"Your protege?" A hand emerged from the sleeping bag to wrap around a silver zipper. Eraserhead began to pull it back upwards. "Hm. Doesn't look very impressive."

Toshinori sighed. "Aizawa-"

"Goodnight," Eraserhead said, and disappeared into the bright yellow sleeping bag.

Toshinori closed his mouth, turning to Izuku with an apologetic look. Without speaking, the two turned and left quietly. It was only until the door had shut behind them that Toshinori spoke.

"Er, sorry about that. He can be… tough, but he has a good heart."

Tough, huh?

It was almost comical to Izuku, comparing the Eraserhead he remembered to the one he'd just seen. The pro hero was much different on and off duty, he supposed.

Eraserhead had looked at him with such a sense of disinterest that it was strange to see. Izuku hadn't been recognized at all, a realization that made him nearly giddy with relief.

A kid? Wait-

"Right," Izuku said. He blew out a breath and nodded. "Hey, um, where's the bathroom?"

Toshinori pointed out the nearest one, and Izuku nodded his thanks, darting around a corner and then slowing. He checked his phone for the time and then passed the bathroom completely, heart beginning to pound.

He'd have three minutes. Maybe four.

Eraserhead was here, though asleep, and so was Recovery Girl. That meant there had to be others: staff, teachers, maybe the principal. He had to be careful, then; a wandering, lone teen could be labelled a threat at worst and a trespasser at best, now that he'd left Toshinori.

His stomach twisted with guilt, but Izuku clamped his teeth down. There was no time for that. He wove through the nearest halls, exploring where the exit points were and the subtle presence of security within the school. Izuku held his phone loosely under his shirt, angling so it was mostly hidden, but made sure it was free to record as he roved about.

There was a map pasted on one of the walls Izuku made sure to take a picture of. A fire evacuation map, standard for schools and perfect for—well, spies.

When time was up, Izuku glanced around the silent school and slipped back in the direction of the bathroom. He kept close to the wall, ready to activate his Quirk if necessary, but no one seemed to be around.

Finally Izuku was back where he started. He strolled back casually to where Toshinori was waiting, phone in hand as he typed.

"Ah, there you are," Toshinori said. His face flashed from concerned to something more pleasant. "I was beginning to think you'd gotten lost."

"Maybe a little," Izuku said lightly. He nodded at Toshinori's phone. "Something come up?"

Toshinori's face pinched, though he was trying not to show it.

"Ah, just an update on an issue with a friend," he said, "I've been helping him with a case, that's all."

Izuku knew Toshinori wouldn't budge even if he pushed, so he let the subject drop.

"A case? Your friend's a policeman, then?"

"Detective," Toshinori said, then hummed thoughtfully. "Good friend. Maybe I'll introduce you sometime. I think you'd find his Quirk interesting."

"Don't tempt me," Izuku said.

"I'll escort you out," Toshinori continued, looking put out. "I'm sorry we couldn't spend a little more time together today—I'll have to go, of course—and for what happened…"

"No, no," Izuku said, forcing a smile on his face. "You should go. You've got other responsibilities outside of me. I'll be fine."

"Still," Toshinori protested, but he was looking more and more distracted by the second. His phone pinged. He glanced at it, a muscle jumping in his jaw when he read the message.

"Let's go," Izuku said, heading in the direction where he thought the exit was. They walked together in silence and stopped outside by the gates of U.A.

"This is where I have to leave you," Toshinori said apologetically. He glanced around, making sure the coast was clear, and transformed. "I'll be seeing you, then."

"Right."

All Might turned his gaze to the sky for a moment, no doubt planning his future route. Then he looked back at Izuku.

"Maybe I should—"

"Go," Izuku said, waving a hand. "You've got more important things to do. Don't worry so much. I'll just head home."

"Do you—"

"Go," Izuku insisted, "I can get home from here. I'll see you tomorrow or something."

"Alright," All Might said finally, "I'm sorry. Ah, don't use your Quirk without me. Be careful, alright? I'm not sure—"

Izuku rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, yeah. No plans on doing that. I promise I'm fine. Just go already."

All Might dipped his head, and Izuku bowed back.

"Well… goodbye, then."

"Hey, All Might," Izuku said before he could stop himself. All Might paused on the sidewalk. "You be careful too."

All Might smiled. "There's no need to fear for me."

The hero was still smiling as he bounded away, leaping into the sky and becoming nothing more than a passing blur. Izuku watched him go, then turned to look at U.A., glittering in the sun.

"Soon," he whispered to himself, fist clenching in his pocket. Then he turned on his heel and walked away.


	6. Chapter 6

**Flare Signal** _  
chapter six_

* * *

Izuku didn't see Toshinori the day after he'd been contacted by his detective friend. Izuku figured he was probably off doing important hero work, a mission of sorts. He was saving people or busting some villains, fighting crime. All the things Izuku admired.

Still, it made Izuku feel incredibly lonely. It wasn't like Toshinori hadn't done this sort of thing before, or that Izuku wasn't used to the quiet. But it made him feel restless, like there was an itch he couldn't scratch.

It didn't help that Chimera had made themselves scarce. Hisashi gave him a set of short, vague instructions before he seemed to disappear off again.

"Keep looking into U.A. and All Might, if you can. Maybe scout out some potential applicants." Hisashi clapped a hand on Izuku's shoulder. "Don't do anything rash, and don't assume we aren't watching if we're not present. Silver will be with us, if you're wondering. I'll see you soon."

Hisashi huffed, smoke curling between a set of sharp teeth.

"Okay," Izuku said.

"Good. I left you some money. Take care of yourself."

"Okay," Izuku muttered, "not like you do a very good job yourself."

Hisashi didn't react. "Just— hm." He tipped his head. "Izuku."

"Dragon," Izuku returned.

Izuku was always stuck watching people leave these days, it seemed. Toshinori had been scant. Hisashi and the rest of Chimera were leaving for a few days.

Izuku thought he'd enjoy the freedom. There was no training, no one pestering him about getting into U.A. (besides himself, of course), and no hero-villain mess.

It ended up being worse than he thought. With nothing to distract him, Izuku found his own thoughts driving him insane. He constantly worried, and he found himself floundering with nothing to fill his time.

He wasn't _used_ to this. He didn't _like_ it.

When three days had passed since he'd last seen Toshinori and two since Chimera, Izuku was ready to break something in frustration. He stopped himself from doing too much destruction, though, afraid he'd lose control of One for All and break his arm again.

…And maybe a wall.

 _ **You, Yesterday 3:14 PM**_ _  
Don't respond if you're busy. Things OK?_

There'd been no response to his text, and it hadn't even been read. Izuku hovered over the chat with Toshinori for a moment.

 _ **You, 8:01 AM**_ _[Draft]  
Haven't heard from you in a while. I'm worri _

He erased it, thinking he'd crossed a line, and tried again.

 _ **You, 8:03 AM**_ _[Draft]_  
 _Wanted to check_

Izuku made a frustrated noise and gave up. He shoved his phone in his pocket and resolved to get some fresh air. Maybe it'd take his mind off of everything.

A jog was nice. Usually, Izuku would jog to meet Toshinori at Dagobah, but today, he let his feet carry him unconsciously. Music pulsed in his ears courtesy of the local radio station.

Izuku lost himself to the rhythm of his footsteps and the rise and fall of his chest. He focused on breathing and flew past people on the street, ducking and weaving. Jogged from block to block and street to street until his legs were aching and his shirt was sticky from sweat.

He slowed to a walk, feeling his heart thunder in his chest. Izuku let his body cool down, stretching his arms over his head. The knot of worry that he'd been carrying around had loosened—not completely gone, but he felt a lot less stressed than before.

When Izuku thought he could, he stepped out of the way of pedestrians to take a deep breath.

"I should do this more often," he told himself. The burn of exercise was nice, and there was something awfully comforting about going on a run.

Izuku took a look around, not sure where he'd lead himself to.

He walked around, trying to pick out landmarks. Izuku had jogged to a residential neighborhood. There was a park nearby where kids were running and playing, shrieks of laughter in the air. It all looked strangely familiar, like Izuku had seen it before. A dream he couldn't quite remember.

Izuku headed towards the activity. He got closer and found kids chasing each other around a playground. Beyond that was a small park filled with trees that looked pleasant, but nothing particularly special to note.

Some older teens, about Izuku's age and older, were playing a hard game of basketball. They flew back and forth across the court, exploding with noise. As Izuku drew closer, he saw the game stop as the two teams blew into a heated argument.

The root of it looked to be someone about Izuku's age. From a distance, Izuku couldn't tell who it was, but he seemed to be upset. He grabbed his opponent's shirt before he was pulled off by his friends.

The teen shouted something in the direction of the other team and then stormed off—in Izuku's direction. He caught sight of Izuku standing there, dumbfounded and not quite sure where to go, and seemed to get angry.

Then he was close enough for Izuku to catch sight of his face, and— well, _shit_.

It was Kacchan. Of _course_ it was Kacchan.

Izuku started backpedaling immediately and almost faceplanted into the grass. Kacchan narrowed his eyes.

"YOU! WHAT ARE YOU LOOKING AT, HUH?" he yelled across the park.

"Uh, gotta go!" Izuku yelled back. It was so nervous it was nothing more than a mess of words as Izuku stumbled back.

Then Kacchan seemed to have put something together. He advanced, hands crackling.

"HEY, AREN'T YOU THAT FU—"

Izuku screeched in response, turned tail, and ran as fast as he could in the other direction. He ran until he'd left Kacchan's sight and knew Kacchan wouldn't bother pursuing him; he'd probably turn around and go yell at his basketball friends. Izuku felt almost bad.

"That was close," Izuku murmured, leaning against a tree. "I'm never doing that again."

It was inevitable that he'd run into Kacchan. Of course, this had just been plain bad luck, but Kacchan was _definitely_ applying to U.A. He was going to force his way in with sheer willpower and spite, with a powerful Quirk to boot.

Izuku personally didn't really have a choice; he _had_ to go to U.A. That meant they'd probably run into each other.

The thought occurred suddenly to Izuku that they'd probably be in the same hero class.

 _Careful, careful—_

Izuku hissed out a breath between his teeth. He'd been so careful. Toshinori expected nothing, and to be honest, Izuku knew he wasn't always the most perceptive of people. He made up for it in enthusiasm and heart, though, which Izuku appreciated.

Kacchan was a different story. He was attentive. If you caught his attention, he'd watch you like a hawk—friend or foe. He was a sheer _force_ , unrelenting and unyielding.

 _Careful, careful, now._

And, from the look on his face as he'd stormed towards Izuku and recognized him, he'd already marked Izuku as competition. For saving him that day with the sludge villain.

It was better, Izuku decided, than being recognized as… well, himself. Far better.

He sat down by the tree and dug his fingers into the soft grass. Then Izuku began to pick up strands of grass, peeling them apart methodically as he thought.

The only thing for Izuku to do was stay alert. Stay wary, and not get too close—easier said than done. He and Kacchan were childhood friends. They'd grown up together, played together, shared—albeit through some thinly-veiled insults here and there—the same hopes and dreams. One wrong move, and Izuku would be through. Everything he'd built, gone.

"Nope," Izuku said, shoving his thoughts down before they went too far. "Not thinking about it. That's a problem for later. Nope. No."

Izuku worried at his lip and then forced himself to let it go. It would be fine. He'd figure something out, he reassured himself, and he would be careful.

He hadn't seen Kacchan since the day with the sludge villain, close to a year ago now.

Before that… before that…

Izuku's brows drew together as he tried to remember. He sifted through his memories, trying to think, but he couldn't seem to find what he was looking for.

Before that, he hadn't seen Kacchan since, since…

Izuku took a deep breath, trying to settle his racing heart. He closed his eyes. There was the last day with Mom, standing in the doorway as she'd given him the box of All Might figures. And before that— yes, Izuku remembered, it'd been the day before.

He'd gone over to Kacchan's house after school to tell Kacchan that they wouldn't see each other for a week.

" _You can still text me, though," Izuku said, scuffing at the floor in a nervous habit even though he knew Auntie Mitsuki wouldn't like it. "And it's only a week, anyway, Kacchan."_

 _Kacchan had thrown himself onto his bed, looking upset. "I don't get why you're fucking going with him, Deku. He's—"_

" _Ka- Kacchan, I have to give him a chance. Maybe he'll—"_

 _Kacchan snarled at the ceiling. "Your deadbeat dad? Showing up begging to play family after he ditched you and Auntie what, eight years ago? I forgot how stupid you are."_

" _Kacchan."_

" _You better not fucking text me, idiot."_

 _Izuku smiled, bouncing on his feet a little. "Okay, I'll call."_

" _Urghh, that's not what I m—"_

" _It'll be good, I think. It's, he's trying?" Izuku quieted. "But he's been… weird about the hero stuff."_

" _Hero stuff? You better not be considering giving that up."_

" _Well, no, I just… I don't know. He said he wanted to introduce me to the family business."_

" _Lame," Kacchan scoffed, "Don't you fucking dare give up, Deku. I can't beat you that way."_

" _Okay," Izuku said, just to placate him._

 _Kacchan huffed. He crossed his arms over his chest and glared at the ceiling like it was a face he wanted to punch in. Then he sat up to pin Izuku with a look._

" _Your heart's too soft, dumbass. Don't let him get away with shit, got it?"_

" _Okay, Kacchan."_

" _Only I get to mess with you."_

" _Okay, Kacchan," Izuku said, biting back a smile._

" _If anything happens, I'm going to beat you up first. Then him."_

" _Okay, Kacchan." This time, he couldn't stop from smiling, and Kacchan glowered at him._

" _The hell are you smiling for?"_

" _You're a good friend, that's all."_

" _Tch," Kacchan scoffed, but there was a glint in his eye as he looked sideways at Izuku. Then he turned solemn. "I meant what I said, Deku."_

" _...okay, Kacchan. I know."_

 _Kacchan reached over to throw a pillow at him. Izuku dodged easily, laughing._

" _I don't get to see your stupid face for a week. Finally," Kacchan declared, throwing another pillow at him. Izuku yelled and charged back with the one he'd scooped up off the floor, aiming downwards._

" _I- I don't get to see yo-your face for a week," Izuku countered, and Kacchan hit him in the face with his pillow._

" _Shut up, Deku."_

Izuku went home that day with a bright smile on his face, thinking that he'd miss Kacchan but that it wouldn't be so bad. It was only a week like he'd said, they'd call each other, and Izuku knew if anything went wrong he could call Kacchan for backup to diffuse the situation.

Well, Izuku thought. He laughed out loud. Maybe _diffuse_ was the wrong word for Kacchan. He wasn't the type to diffuse anything.

He briefly thought about going back to see Kacchan again. A brief second where Izuku imagined telling him everything, maybe using his Quirk to change his appearance back to what he really looked like, maybe telling Kacchan something only the two of them knew.

Like the time Kacchan had accidentally exploded the leg off of one of the classroom desks, and he and their group of friends had frantically re-taped it back as well as they could. Twenty minutes later, when class had restarted, the table had gone down in a crash.

Kacchan, of course, hadn't been punished, since there wasn't really any evidence. Everyone had immediately turned to stare at him expectantly, though.

Maybe that would be the wrong thing to tell Kacchan after close to three years of not seeing him. Izuku would get his face blown up, or something.

Izuku went back to daydreaming, but he was interrupted by the buzz and chime of his phone. He wasted no time checking it, eager for an update from anyone.

 _ **Silver 9:48 AM**_ _  
Business finished._

 _ **Silver 9:50 AM**_ _  
Wasn't sure if I should tell you this, but_

 _ **Silver 9:50 AM**_ _  
Never mind._

 _ **You 9:51 AM  
**_ _What happened?_

 _ **Silver 9:52 AM**_ _  
Don't freak. Got myself a little scratched up._

 _ **You 9:52 AM**_ _  
SILVER_

 _ **Silver 9:53 AM**_ _  
Yeah._

The text had barely come through from Silver before Izuku was calling her.

" _Hey, 'zuku—_ "

"What the hell?" Izuku bit out, his voice a fraction too loud.

" _It was a lucky shot. We weren't as prepared as we would've liked. Hisashi got mixed up in it, too._ "

Izuku held no particular love for Hisashi, that was true. He'd much rather the two of them go back to the way things were: Hisashi out of the picture and Izuku happy without him in it.

So Izuku didn't like the way his panic spiked or that he was panicking at all.

"Are you okay?"

Silver made a noncommittal noise, then laughed. " _I'm fine, don't worry. The other guys came out worse. Ow, no laughing._ "

"Uh," Izuku said, "I don't think I really believe you."

" _Hisashi's going to be fine, by the way. If you were wondering. Too bad, I guess, you would've liked the chance, huh?"_

Izuku looked around him for people. He felt sick.

"I- I don't… I mean, I don't think I want him… dead…"

" _If I were you, I probably would. You with your bleeding heart. Well, maybe next time—you want to come say hello?_ "

Izuku hadn't seen Silver in days. He'd missed her, and she'd come back hurt.

"Yeah, I'm, um, I'm on my way. Do you need anything?"

" _A drink? Anyway, I know we haven't been around—ah, Miss Guidance is calling. Oh, Hisashi wants to talk to you later, forgot to tell you. Gotta go._ "

"Bye."

The phone cut off, signalling the end of the call. Izuku sighed, slumping. He massaged his temples.

Izuku resolved to stay out as long as possible, avoiding all human contact. It didn't seem to be working out for him today, though that was all Izuku had wanted.

If Silver was being truthful about Hisashi wanting to see Izuku, though, it was best to make sure he wasn't kept waiting. *Izuku hauled himself to his feet, readjusted his clothing, and then ambled out of the park. He avoided the basketball court, hoping he'd miss Kacchan by going the other way.

It took a while to find his way back from the park, but Izuku did eventually. He let the long walk ground him and thought about what he'd say when he saw Hisashi again.

Izuku visited Silver first. She was curled up in bed when Izuku arrived, knocking and then pushing the door in.

"Izuku!"

Silver raised her arms toward him, making grabbing motions at him when she saw him carrying a juice box.

"Hey," Izuku said, crossing to her bedside and handing her the drink. "Are you… are you okay?"

Getting closer, Izuku found that Silver looked rough. There were old bruises peppered along her cheek. She looked tired, like she hadn't slept. The injury she'd mentioned, though, was what Izuku assumed was a deep cut on her left leg, hidden by rounds of bandages.

Silver sucked at her juice box loudly. "Better now." She reached over and shoved his shoulder. "Lighten up, you. I'm fine."

Izuku remained unconvinced, but he sighed.

"I'll come back later," he promised. "I have to go see Hisashi."

Silver nodded. "He might be a bit grumpy, by the way. He's not happy at how our latest plans turned out."

Izuku sighed, already halfway out the door. "Great."

He knocked on Hisashi's door and wasn't answered; the room was empty. Izuku tried the conference room next and found that empty, too. Eventually Izuku wound up in the little room by the stairwell, built to be a study with a small square window that looked out at the city.

"There you are," Hisashi said. He was seated in the chair by the window but turned to look when Izuku stepped in cautiously.

"You wanted to see me."

"I wanted to introduce you to someone," Hisashi said. Izuku jerked in surprise when a shadow along the wall detached itself and became human.

"Izuku, huh…" the stranger said. His voice was low and scratchy; Izuku disliked it immediately.

"Oh," Izuku said, before he could filter his thoughts, "that's a lot of hands, huh?"

" _Izuku_."

"Ha, ha, ha," the stranger mocked. Izuku shivered, taking an involuntary step back. "You think you're funny, do you."

"E- excu- excuse me," Izuku stammered, "I'm sorry."

He lowered his eyes, taking in the villain at the same time. A set of hands clasped at the head, woven into light hair that obscured the face with another hand. Izuku thought he could see an eye peering out at him and quickly dropped his gaze lower. More hands, clasped at his arms, his chest, his neck.

Izuku pressed his lips together. Still a lot of hands, he decided.

"Forgive him," Hisashi spoke up, and Izuku flushed. "My son sometimes speaks without thinking."

"Obviously."

"Do I get to know your name?" Izuku asked.

"Shigaraki," Hisashi answered before the stranger could. "We've been working with him and the… League of Villains for the past year."

A memory drifted to the forefront of Izuku's mind. "The _friends_."

Hisashi tilted his head. "If you'd prefer to call them that."

Izuku leveled his gaze at Shigaraki, lining up the villain with the new information. This was who Chimera had chosen to work with—the person, it seemed, who had single-handedly launched Izuku into the worst predicament of his life.

Or fourteen-handedly, if Izuku was counting right. Izuku bit down on his tongue and tried to keep his face neutral.

"You're the one interested in All Might, right?"

Shigaraki's hand—his real one—lifted from its place at his side to scratch his neck.

" _All Might_ ," he spat, and the disdain was clear in his voice.

The way he said All Might's name made Izuku want to run. He forced himself to stay still inside, not giving anything away.

"Not a fan, huh," Izuku said. His voice shook just slightly, but Shigaraki caught it and smiled.

"I'm going to kill him," Shigaraki snarled, "The number one hero. What an idiot."

"Okay," Izuku said, like everything was totally fine. "Cool."

"I'm going to kill him," Shigaraki repeated. "Then they'll see. Everyone will see."

"Okay, uh, you got a plan for that, or are you just winging it?"

Wrong thing to say. Shigaraki was in Izuku's face in an instant, grabbing the front of his shirt and hauling him just inches off the ground.

"Stop mocking me," he hissed. Red eyes shone from behind a grey hand.

"Now, Shigaraki," Hisashi said, voice smooth and calming.

Hisashi stood, hand braced on the back of his armchair, but he didn't move from his spot. A warning not to hurt Izuku, but a stance that he wouldn't particularly stop Shigaraki if he did.

Shigaraki ignored him.

"Brat."

Shigaraki curled his hand around the front of Izuku's shirt, and slowly and deliberately set his fingers down. Before Izuku could wonder why his fingers hadn't all been there in the first place, he found his answer clear as day.

From under Shigaraki's fingertips, color leaked away like the change of the seasons. Izuku's shirt splintered into pieces like fallen leaves and then disappeared like winter had come, leaving exposed skin where the fabric had once been.

Izuku hit the ground as Shigaraki let him go. Then, in a movement too fast for Izuku to follow, Shigaraki pressed two careful fingers under Izuku's collarbone, where the shirt had disintegrated and left his bare skin.

"Careful," Shigaraki murmured, withdrawing his hand after a moment of lingering terror.

Then he took a step back. Behind him, something flickered across Hisashi's face before it settled into a cold detachment; he sat down again.

Izuku stood with trembling legs as Shigaraki stepped back to where he'd been. Izuku thought his legs would give out from under him, but miraculously he managed to stay standing. The terror, though, Izuku figured was probably clear on his face.

Shigaraki's Quirk… it was clearly a threat, the way he'd pressed his fingers to Izuku's skin. He'd been waiting for fear to seep into Izuku's veins. Shigaraki had destroyed the shirt—just a shirt, nothing more than material and fabric. And yet Izuku knew the point had been made: it could've been him.

"Attending U.A., aren't you?"

Izuku nodded.

"Good," Shigaraki said, "and actually, I do have to thank you for your work these past few months. You've been very helpful these past few months…"

"I have?" Izuku croaked.

Shigaraki's eyes glinted.

"All Might won't be number one for long," Shigaraki told Izuku, delight evident in his voice. "A little longer, and you'll get to see him fall. You and I, at the heart of it."

"Are you done?" Hisashi drawled. Smoke curled around his face.

"Hm," Shigaraki hummed, nodding at Izuku, "I suppose. The League will need your assistance in the upcoming months… you're lucky. I think we have matters to discuss?"

He'd spoken the last question to Hisashi, turning his back on Izuku. A dismissal that Izuku was all too grateful for.

Izuku beat a hasty retreat, bolting out the door and in the direction of his room. Once he was back, he made straight for the bathroom.

His head spun wildly, but Izuku managed to take the few, stumbling steps to the toilet bowl. His throat burned as Izuku retched, forehead pressed to his arms.

Izuku's vision blurred with tears. Then he retched again, until his stomach was empty, and sat back, gasping.

His stomach lurched, and Izuku dove back to the toilet, but nothing came up. He reached blindly for a wad of tissues and wiped at his mouth, then flushed everything down.

He couldn't seem to put his thoughts together. It was all a jumbled, whirling mess, a howling wind that Izuku couldn't escape no matter how he put his arms up to shield himself from it.

Hisashi, the Dragon, father and villain. Miss Guidance and Bonestealer. Izuku could deal with them. He didn't know everything about them—in Miss Guidance and Bonestealer's cases, he knew very little—but he knew enough. Izuku could press his luck, knew which buttons to press and which to not, where he could get away with something. With Chimera, Izuku felt like he was looking at its members through a hazy smoke. He could make out their silhouettes, could see their edges, and now and then, he'd catch a glimpse of their faces.

Shigaraki, though? Seeing him now, tasting the dredges of his power, the way he'd spoken about All Might… it was terrifying. He was a completely unknown factor, an unpredictable variable. Izuku thought he'd seen his true face in the short conversation they'd had, and it scared him.

Izuku didn't know the extent Shigaraki would go to in order to achieve his goals. Izuku had no idea what Shigaraki could do, what power he commanded. Unpredictable things, Izuku had learned, were dangerous. Uncontrollable things were worse.

Izuku gagged again but kept it down, the taste of acid in his mouth. He sat there for what felt like hours, crying into the crook of his arm. When Izuku thought he had nothing left to give, he got slowly to his feet and wet a towel, wiping at his face.

The bathroom was dark but lit enough that Izuku could make out his reflection in the mirror. Izuku gripped the edge of the counter and stared at himself for a moment, wondering what Toshinori saw in him, what Eraserhead saw in him, what Kacchan would say if he looked at Izuku now.

The truth was that Izuku didn't know.

God, what had Kacchan said? That day, before Izuku had left?

 _Don't you fucking dare give up, Deku. I can't beat you that way._

Izuku thought of Dagobah Beach and the piled mountains of trash he'd cleared away by himself. Progress. Progress, and progress.

"Okay," Izuku whispered, filling his spine with steel. He lifted his chin and looked his reflection in the eye. "Okay. You can't control Shigaraki. He can't control you."

He clenched his fist, calling One for All to the surface for a brief moment. It washed over his skin like burning sunlight, then returned to its place deep inside of him. An ember hidden in the dark coal.

If there was a way out, Izuku would find it. Already he'd seen cracks where the light seemed to be peeking through. It was only a matter of time before Izuku could claw his way into the bright day.

"Don't give up yet," Izuku told himself. He'd do the best he could, as much as he could.

Resolve was already beginning to fill him. Shigaraki stood waiting in Izuku's shadows with his mocking laugh and his red eyes, but Izuku shoved away his terror.

"No time to be scared," he decided—but the fear pulsed under Izuku's skin when he imagined Shigaraki's bony fingers dropping one by one, hand around Toshinori's neck. No, _no_ —

"No," Izuku said, and saying it out loud made the word solid and real. Like it held some kind of power that silence could not, like it was tangible now, and Izuku could hold it and shape it and _wield_ it.

The fear that had dragged him under before receded slightly. Just enough for Izuku to get his head above the surface and breathe.

And think.

Shigaraki had created something with power to kill All Might. A weapon, perhaps, some powerful force or creature to rival All Might's strength.

Izuku strode across his room to his bed and took his notebook from its hiding place under his mattress.

He'd known of plans, as vague as they were, to defeat All Might. Izuku had known that since the beginning. He hadn't known about Shigaraki or his League of Villains, and he certainly hadn't known that Shigaraki wanted to _kill_ All Might.

Izuku ripped out the first few pages of his notebook, crumpling them up and tossing them in the direction of the trash can.

They had All Might's weaknesses. Or some of them, at least, the little Izuku had given them, bits and breadcrumbs.

They had power, they had connections, they had Izuku.

Izuku, who could take apart heroes' pieces and pinpoint what made them click. How they worked. Izuku, who could pick apart heroes.

Izuku, who could just as easily pick apart villains.

There was nothing Izuku could do to stop Shigaraki or Chimera. Their plans, whatever they were, had already been set into motion. Izuku was along for the ride.

On the fresh page of his notebook, Izuku wrote in large letters with a shaking hand:

 _ **SHIGARAKI**_

Izuku stared at the name for a second. Under it, taking a deep breath, Izuku wrote the next part.

 _Weaknesses._

* * *

 **Please drop a review if you liked it!**

 **Feel free to ask questions, though answers are not guaranteed. Here's a mini Q &A I've collected:**

 **Q: Any ships? Izuku/Silver or Izuku/Ochako? A: This is a gen fic, so no ships!**

 **Q: Did Hisashi kill Inko? A: Can't tell you.**

 **Q: Will Izuku ever go back to the name Midoriya? A: Eventually, but not soon.**

 **Q: General confusion over Chimera/Hisashi. A: Hisashi's villain name is Dragon, and the villain organization is Chimera.**

 **Q: Will OfA and Izuku's illusion quirk fuse/affect each other? A: Tricky question. I've gone through a couple possibilities and don't like any of them. At the moment, no, but both Quirks play a role in the story.**

 **Q: Bonestealer's pronouns? A: Bonestealer uses they/them pronouns and is referred to as such.**

 _achieving elysium_


	7. Chapter 7

**Flare Signal**  
chapter _seven_

* * *

Toshinori texted Izuku in the middle of the night.

It was normally a time Izuku would've been asleep, but he'd stayed up to do some research. Then Izuku had gone down the rabbit hole that was hero analysis forums, and he hadn't slept yet.

 _Buzz._

 _ **Toshinori 3:49 AM**_ _  
Back._

It was only a single word, but the fact that the text existed at all made Izuku leap up out of his chair in excitement. He read it again—though there was little to it—and ran a lap around his room, careful not to make noise lest he woke one of the others.

It'd been close to two weeks since Izuku had heard from Toshinori. After the first week, he'd kept tabs closely on the media for any sighting of All Might. The only articles that had come up were ones that, like Izuku, were speculating about All Might's absence.

No one had been extremely worried, of course. He was Japan's greatest hero, for one, and heroes were often hidden from the public eye when going on missions. The rumors started as they always did. Maybe All Might was tracking down a dangerous criminal or busting a yakuza. Maybe All Might was visiting a secret family, or taking care of an illegitimate son. Maybe All Might had decided to leave society to become a hermit, which Izuku had found screenshotted to show Toshinori later on.

That Toshinori was back and Izuku hadn't heard anything on the news meant that Toshinori had texted Izuku first. The thought, with his screen like a rectangle of light in the dark, made a soft warmth curl in Izuku's chest.

 _ **You 4:00 AM  
**_ _Is everything okay?_

 _ **Toshinori 4:00 AM**_ _  
Did I wake you? I'm sorry, I should've waited until morning._

 _ **You 4:01 AM**_ _  
...No, it's okay._

 _ **You 4:02 AM**_ _  
Are you okay though?_

 _ **Toshinori 4:03 AM**_ _  
I'm okay. The case didn't go like we wanted, but no bad injuries on our part. Everyone came out okay, which is what matters._

Izuku breathed a long sigh of relief he'd been holding for two weeks.

 _ **You 4:06 AM**_ _  
...I'm glad._

 _ **You 4:10 AM**_ _  
Thank you for telling me_

 _ **Toshinori 4:12 AM**_ _  
go to sleep, Akatani. We can talk in the morning. I'll be here._

Izuku clicked his desk lamp off and slipped into bed. He waited until he was under the covers, tucked away safely before he scrolled through the conversation again. Izuku reread it, short as it was, and found himself smiling when he drifted off to sleep.

It was late when he woke up again, the sunlight already harsh through the window. Izuku sat up, realizing he'd fallen asleep with his phone in his hand, though it'd fallen from his grip in the night.

He rubbed at his face and suddenly remembered Toshinori had contacted him in the hazy hours of the early morning. He clicked his phone on but found it out of power, then lunged for his charging cable.

"C'mon," Izuku said, staring as the phone lit up, charging symbol on screen. It'd be a few minutes before he could start it up, so Izuku took the time to wash up and get ready.

The phone booted up easily when he got back. Izuku went straight to his messages, noting that it was already close to noon. He hadn't been woken by anyone, which hopefully meant that it was going to be a quiet day. No one needed him yet, it seemed.

Toshinori _had_ texted him, a simple good morning followed by a query if Izuku was free to meet.

 _ **You 11:45 AM**_ _  
If you're not too tired or anything. We can meet another time._

 _ **Toshinori 11:50 AM**_ _  
I'm fine. I'll introduce you to Naomasa, maybe._

 _ **You 11:50 AM**_ _  
Naomasa?_

 _ **Toshinori 11:51 AM**_ _  
My detective friend. He's a human lie detector, if you will._

 _ **You 11:53 AM**_ _  
HE's A WHAT_

 _ **You 11:53 AM**_ _  
YOURE INTRODUCING ME_

 _ **You 11:54 AM**_ _  
Omg how does it work_

 _ **You 11:54 AM**_ _[Draft]  
Can he detect all lies. What if you're only half-lying_

 _ **Toshinori 11:54 AM**_ _  
Ask him, not me._

 _ **You 11:55 AM**_ _  
Sorry I got really excited. When do you want to meet_

They set up a time for afternoon tea. Izuku started the day off feeling cheerful, humming as he went to the room next door and knocked.

"It's open!"

Izuku peered in. Silver was spread out on her bed, reading a book. She smiled when she saw him.

"Finally woke up, huh?"

Izuku stifled a yawn. "...Yeah. Are the others here?"

"Nah, they all left. Miss Guidance and Bonestealer went off together for something, and Hisashi went to meet, well—"

"Shigaraki?"

Silver raised an eyebrow. "They told you."

"You didn't," Izuku pointed out, "and Hisashi introduced me."

Silver didn't look very sorry. She shrugged. "I didn't think you needed to know. Or wanted to know."

"I guess," Izuku muttered. The mention of Shigaraki still made a chill run down his spine.

"Hey, what are you doing at night? I can hear you through the wall."

Izuku winced. "Sorry, am I being too loud?"

Silver shook her head. "I was up, too. New project or something."

"Or something," Izuku replied, "but… it's a secret."

Silver considered him for a moment. She and Miss Guidance had the same colored eyes, like dark pools Izuku found himself drowning in. He'd never noticed the similarity, but Miss Guidance had flecks of gold in her eyes. A side effect of her Quirk, Silver had told him.

"I won't ask," she decided. "How's prep for U.A.?"

Izuku groaned. "I've trained more in the past few months than I have in my entire life."

"Aw, Bonestealer treating you well?"

Izuku snorted. "That's one way of putting it."

They sat together for a little while before hunger called Izuku away. He drifted into the kitchen, going through the pantry for anything he could eat. Someone had brought bread; Izuku cooked an egg and folded two pieces of bread around it, eating it while sitting on the countertop.

It wasn't a particularly filling breakfast—or lunch—but it was enough to keep Izuku going. He suddenly found himself craving katsudon, just the way Mom made it. He'd tried a couple times to replicate it, but he'd never been able to get it right.

After eating, Izuku checked in with Silver a last time before heading to the train station. He usually liked walking or jogging, but the tea shop Toshinori had selected was a bit far out. Izuku didn't like being late.

Izuku stood close to the edge of the platform as the train rolled in. Smooth and quiet, it pulled to a stop and buffeted Izuku's hair back.

He waited for a few people to get off and then squeezed in. He found a place to stand and held onto the railing.

Someone bumped into him. Izuku managed to keep ahold of the railing, but he stumbled slightly.

"Oh!" a girl said, brown eyes wide. "I'm so sorry!"

Izuku shifted, uncomfortable. "No, uh… it's fine. No problem."

The girl had large brown eyes set in a soft face, framed with shoulder-length brown hair. She looked kind, maybe excitable, right about Izuku's age.

"Where are you headed to?" she asked.

"Afternoon tea," Izuku answered shortly. He swept his gaze away from her, trying to find another open space, but the train was packed with people. He didn't like this—talking to strangers, having attention on him. The last time it'd happened, Izuku had been made the successor of the number one hero.

With a friendly girl on the train? Izuku wasn't going to take any chances.

It looked like he was out of luck, though. He sighed, counted to three, looked at the girl's smile, and gave up.

"What… what about you?" Izuku tried cautiously.

The girl's face lit up. "Headed to the library," she told him. "I'm studying for the U.A. entrance exams?"

"You're, um, applying?"

"Yeah! I'm determined to get in."

"Uh, me, too."

The girl's eyes widened. "Really?"

Izuku was trying not to think about how close they were standing together or how invested she suddenly looked in the conversation. Izuku wasn't a conversationalist. The longer this lasted, the less Izuku would know what to say. Then he'd be reduced to stumbling over his words and a lot of nodding and yes-ing.

"Y-yeah."

"That's so cool! Are you applying to the hero course, too?"

He nodded.

"Hey—maybe we'll see each other in the entrance exams. It's less than two months away, huh?"

"Crazy, ri- right?"

"I'm super nervous, but I'm sure we'll both make it!"

The train slowed. Izuku shifted easily, catching his balance, but the girl was caught off guard. Before he knew what he was doing, Izuku grabbed her arm, keeping her from sliding too far or falling.

"Sorry," he said, letting go immediately.

"No need to apologize—thanks!" She smiled at him. Behind her, the doors hissed as they opened, and Izuku realized it was his stop.

"Oh, uh, gotta go, bye," he said hastily, stepping around her.

"Hey, wait!"

Izuku stepped onto the platform but looked back, catching the girl's eyes.

"I'll see you in the hero course."

The train doors shut. The girl reached up and grabbed a hanging strap, but she waved at him as the train pulled away from the stop. The last thing he caught of her was a smile, and feeling light, Izuku found himself smiling, too.

Toshinori and his detective friend were painfully easy to spot, standing outside on the curb waiting. Toshinori waved when he spotted Izuku, and Izuku waved back, crossing the road to reach them.

"This is Akatani," Toshinori introduced, "and young Akatani, this is my friend, Detective Tsukauchi."

 _Lie detector_ , Izuku's mind supplied him before he could open his mouth. Instead he nodded and smiled.

"Nice to meet you, detective," he said. Tsukauchi smiled, taking Izuku's hand.

"It's nice to meet you, too."

The three of them stepped inside, and in a blur, Izuku found himself seated with a cup of steaming tea in front of him.

"Applying to U.A., aren't you?"

"That's the plan," Izuku said. His mind drifted briefly back to the girl he'd met on the train.

Tsukauchi smiled. "A good goal. Hero work wasn't quite for me, but you should've seen Toshinori—"

Toshinori, sitting to Izuku's right, choked. He flapped a hand in Tsukauchi's face.

"Naomasa, don't—"

"Go on," Izuku invited, "I'm interested."

" _Naomasa_."

"Lighten up, old man," Tsukauchi said, and Izuku muffled a shriek of laughter. Toshinori coughed, recovering to glare at his friend.

"Old man? I'm not _old_."

"Alright," Tsukauchi said placatingly, but Izuku thought he caught a wink directed at him.

Toshinori frowned. "Hey. You're not old until you've reached Gran Torino's age. That's old."

"And look at how well he's doing."

"Gran Torino?"

The reactions of the two men were vastly different. Tsukauchi looked faintly bemused. Toshinori looked like he wanted to melt through the ground.

"He's a retired pro hero," Tsukauchi said after a moment. "But you wouldn't know that being with him. Very energetic, that one."

"Energetic, ha," Toshinori gasped. "He's worse than Chiyo."

Izuku filed the information away for later. Gran Torino, at the moment, looked like he'd be fun to hold a conversation with.

Tsukauchi patted Toshinori on the shoulder and nodded at Izuku.

"You'll meet him one day," he said, glancing at Toshinori, "actually, I bet you'll meet him relatively soon. With that Quirk of yours, you know—"

Toshinori buried his head in his arms. "No…"

Izuku raised his eyebrows. "You know?"

"I know."

"He knows," Toshinori said, voice muffled.

"Toshinori here is actually quite bad at keeping secrets, if you didn't know. I'm surprised the whole world doesn't know everything about him."

Izuku sipped at his tea and then cocked his head.

"So, your Quirk…" he started.

"Off he goes," Toshinori muttered. Izuku ignored him.

"How does it work?" Izuku blurted. "Sorry, I'm really into Quirk theory, see, and I've heard of lie-detecting Quirks, but they all work kind of differently? What counts as a lie? Is it, how accurate is it?"

Tsukauchi chuckled. He didn't seem thrown by Izuku's flurry of words, which was a nice change. Instead he only seemed pleasantly surprised.

"I can tell when people lie," he started, resting his chin on his hand. "It's fairly accurate. My sister has a similar Quirk, but hers is contact-based and more guesswork, since it's based on physical and sometimes visual cues. But my Quirk categorizes what people say as truth or lies."

"But isn't there a grey area? What if they're not outright lying? Or what if they're telling the truth, but it's not the whole truth? How does your Quirk work then?"

Tsukauchi's eyes shone with the challenge. He was a detective. Like Izuku, he had to like thinking, had to like exploring and pushing at the boundaries constantly. Already Izuku felt like they were beginning to understand each other in a different way than him and Toshinori—neither, of course, were bad things, but it was refreshing to find someone who asked and answered as many questions as Izuku did.

"Half-truths are harder to discern. Technicalities get muddy, but usually my Quirk will mark them as truth if the lie is small, insignificant, or closer to the truth."

Izuku was brimming with energy. "It's based on what people say, right? That's so useful! Is it hard to process?"

"Sometimes."

A waiter passed, offering a bowl of fortune cookies. Izuku took one, cracking it open as he thought.

"What about if someone believes something is true?" He waved a hand, trying to explain himself. "Like, um, I don't know, if someone dies, but the person you're talking to doesn't know that, and so they say that the other person is alive? Does that count as a lie?"

"It's situational, but for the most part, no. My Quirk marks it as true."

Izuku mulled the thought over.

"Wow," he said finally, "pretty cool."

Tsukauchi smiled gently. Izuku liked his smile; it was soft and kind, and from the hint of wrinkles around his eyes Izuku thought he smiled often.

"Thank you," he said, "though I think we might've confused Toshinori over there."

Izuku ducked his head, blushing. He'd almost forgotten about his mentor in his train of thought.

"So—sorry it was just so _cool_ ," he started. Toshinori snapped back into focus and laughed.

"You're excited," he said, "so it's fine. Not personally something I find riveting, but I'm glad the two of you can find conversation in each other."

"I could go on forever," Izuku warned Tsukauchi. He stuck half of the fortune cookie in his mouth. "Just a heads up. You might regret it."

"I'd be glad for it," Tsukauchi replied. "Get a good fortune?"

Izuku plucked out the strip of paper, reading over the front before flipping it over.

"The man on the top of the mountain did not fall there," he read. "Huh."

Izuku stuck it in his pocket, saving it for later. He ate the other half of his fortune cookie.

"Interesting," Toshinori said. He cracked his own fortune cookie open. "Enjoy the good luck a companion brings you. Mm, think I will."

Izuku's phone buzzed in his pocket. As Toshinori and Tsukauchi slipped into an easy conversation, Izuku checked his phone.

 _ **BS 2:31 PM**_ _  
Silver said you were out. Come back for a training session._

 _ **BS 2:32 PM**_ _  
I've got a surprise._

"Uh oh," Izuku murmured to himself. He didn't like surprises. Bonestealer, on the other hand, loved surprises.

"Everything alright?"

Izuku hummed distractedly. He stood, chair scraping back.

"Sorry, I think I have to go." He bowed to his companions. "Thank you for the tea… it was nice to meet you, Detective Tsukauchi."

Tsukauchi stood and shook Izuku's hand. "Likewise."

Izuku dipped his head in Toshinori's direction. "I'll see you, I guess. I'm glad you're alright."

Then Izuku hurried away.

A surprise training session. Izuku felt his body pulse in memory. He wasn't really looking forward to another training session with Bonestealer. It'd be another brutal afternoon, he supposed.

Despite his trepidation, Izuku wasted no time. He returned to the base and took the stairs down into the basement where Bonestealer was waiting.

At first, Izuku didn't see Bonestealer at all. Instead he found himself staring at a large hunk of twisted metal, light glinting off a dirty surface. He took a step back and tried to make sense of it.

There was a panel, and there, joints… a robot.

"Like it?" Bonestealer called.

Izuku looked up, craning his neck. Bonestealer was perched on the robot's head, kicking their legs back and forth in the air. They moved gracefully, leaping from part to part until they landed in front of Izuku.

"Uh… sure?"

"I did some research, see," Bonestealer said. "For their entrance exams, U.A. uses robots for the best simulation in the hero course. I don't know what kind specifically or how they work, but I figured they're all robots, right? In the end, they're all the same."

Izuku wasn't sure that was completely true, but he thought he understood where Bonestealer was going with it.

The robot Bonestealer had brought (found? Salvaged? Built? Izuku didn't know) was a little over two meters, twice Izuku's height. It stood close to the ceiling. It didn't look like anything Izuku imagined from U.A. This one was slightly rusted, and though Izuku didn't know much about robotics, he thought it looked outdated. Vaguely humanoid, it was missing a hand, but otherwise it seemed operational.

"You're going to need to be able to take down one of these," Bonestealer said. "And you're going to need to be able to do it as fast as possible. For the next few weeks, we're going to work in maneuvering with and around it, what things to break, what parts you can use, and how to win."

Izuku nodded slowly.

He didn't always appreciate Bonestealer's methods of training. But Izuku knew the next two weeks would be valuable in landing him a spot in the hero course.

"With a Quirk like yours, at least for the exam, it's going to be useless, kid."

"Yeah." Izuku blew out a breath. "I know."

"Illusions won't do shit against robots," Bonestealer continued.

Izuku nodded. He'd known that. Even if the robots could be tricked, Izuku wasn't sure he could concentrate on a full illusion while fighting at the same time. It wasn't practical.

"So… you're going to have to think fast."

While they'd been talking, Bonestealer had retreated to the corner of the room.

It was the only warning Izuku got before the robot whirred. Pale yellow eyes lit up as the head turned and locked on its target.

"Holy," Izuku shouted, diving to the side. The robot slammed a massive fist down where Izuku had been, but quickly recovered.

Izuku dodged, dancing around the robot. It was bigger than him. Fast.

He wasn't strong enough to beat it through sheer strength alone, though Izuku figured he could if he used One for All.

The arm came down again. Izuku skidded as the force sent him back, then threw himself forward. He clambered up the robot's arm. It shifted, trying to throw him off.

Izuku screeched as he slid, scrabbling at smooth metal. He managed to catch his fingers in a groove and was left hanging.

The robot swung around again. Izuku hooked his feet into the ridge of a plate and crawled onto its shoulder.

A hand arced back. Izuku couldn't move in time, and giant metal fingers crushed his foot. A burning pain shot through him, but Izuku dragged himself out of reach, clinging to the robot's neck.

Izuku gritted his teeth against the pain, wrapping his legs around the robot's neck to keep balance as he pulled a knife from the sheath at his waist. He worked the back panel off.

Underneath the silvery metal was a mesh of colored wires and lights. He thought back, scraping together the little knowledge he had, and found himself going blank with how to disable it.

Didn't matter, Izuku thought, catching a glimpse of Bonestealer's face.

"Fuck it," he hissed. Then Izuku drove the knife into the wires. Something sparked, heat against his palm. Underneath him, the robot shuddered and slowed to a stop.

"Not bad, kid," Bonestealer called.

Izuku carefully let himself down. When he landed, pain shot through his foot; Izuku crumpled, yelping.

Bonestealer studied Izuku as he wiped his eyes.

"Take care of that," they said finally, nodding at his foot. "We'll be back tomorrow. Don't be late."

Bonestealer left him stunned. He'd expected them to demand for Izuku to get up and continue training. Instead Izuku got up and limped over to the wall, slumping against it. He tested his weight on his bad foot and found it didn't look good.

Still, after Izuku poked at it for a minute, he figured it wasn't broken. He limped his way back to his room and wrapped it in bandages, then found a bag of frozen waffles in the fridge to pop on top of it.

Izuku went to get his phone and found his fingers touching something papery to the touch. It was the fortune from the fortune cookie.

 _The man on top of the mountain did not fall there._

Izuku considered it for a moment and took out his secret notebook. Carefully, he taped it on the inside of the front cover. There was something about the quote Izuku liked, though he wasn't sure what.

Then he put his notebook away and turned to the various textbooks and papers scattered about his room. With nothing else to do, Izuku figured, it was time to get back to work. U.A. was waiting.

* * *

 _Khhz—khhhhrzz… … kr—_

 _A sound like static. Garbled, unintelligible voices._

"— _changing. Something's different."_

" _Different?"_

" _It takes longer, now. Far longer than it should and far longer than it used to."_

" _Should we do anything?"_

 _Footsteps. "No… for now, we wait and see—"_

 _Khhhz… kh- khhrr—_

* * *

 **A note: yes. I know it's Akatani Mikumo. Yes, I use Mikumi. Thanks.**


	8. Chapter 8

**Flare Signal**  
 _chapter eight_

* * *

By the month the U.A. entrance exams were to take place, Izuku had broken his arm three times.

It wasn't like Izuku was _trying_. It hurt. It was inconvenient. It was totally not fun.

It was lucky enough that Recovery Girl could fix it, but Izuku himself was not a particular fan of seeing her pinched, unimpressed face or being on the receiving end of a scolding. If there was one thing Toshinori feared, it was the wrath of a fed up old woman.

"You're not even a student yet," Recovery Girl had ranted, smacking the top of Izuku's head with a manilla folder containing his personal files. "And the school year hasn't started! Why do you have to give me all this trouble?"

"I'm sorry," Izuku mumbled, "I know it's not ideal."

"Not ideal," Recovery Girl repeated, in that tone of voice that meant she was about ready to go off again.

Toshinori recognized it, too.

"Chiyo," he interrupted.

Evidently, it was the wrong thing to say.

Recovery Girl whirled on Toshinori, directing her anger at him this time.

"You! Don't get me started. He's just as reckless as you are! Where did you find this kid?"

"We ran into each other," Izuku supplied, "and then fought a villain under a bridge."

"Of course you did." Recovery Girl threw up her hands. "When you said you were looking for a successor, I thought you might someone who was a bit more— gah, a bit less… _you._ "

Neither Izuku nor Toshinori knew what to say to that, so instead they remained silent. Recovery Girl sighed, seeming to lose the fight.

"You're a good kid," she grumbled after a moment. She smacked Izuku again with the folder. "But I'm not going to see you again until after you start U.A., understood?"

Izuku blinked back at her with wide eyes, marvelling at how easily she'd talked about him being a U.A. student.

"Uh, yeah," Izuku chirped.

"I mean it. I've gotten more grey hairs this month than I have the past five years. You're both terrible."

"Thanks, Chiyo."

Recovery Girl hobbled back to her desk and waved the two of them off.

"I don't want to see you. Get out."

"See you later, Recovery Girl," Izuku said, waving with the hand she'd healed to make sure it was working properly. "Thanks for the help!"

"Way later," she called after them.

"That woman will be the death of me," Toshinori groused as they walked away. "Actually, so will you."

He stopped suddenly in the middle of the hall and put both hands on Izuku's shoulders.

"You cannot keep hurting yourself like this," he said quietly, "and perhaps that speaks to my– incompetence as a teacher–"

"Don't say that," Izuku cut in sharply. "That's not true."

"–but we need to find a way for you to control One for All without hurting yourself. This can't last."

Izuku stretched his hand out in front of him. Already, pale scarring marred it—not particularly noticeable until he was looking closely, but it was there.

"No," he agreed, "but I don't know _how_."

Toshinori shifted into his hero form. The shadows on his face made him look even more serious.

"Don't worry. We'll figure it out together." All Might looked troubled. "Maybe I should call…"

"Are you two just going to stand in the hallway gossiping?"

Eraserhead shuffled down the hall. He wasn't in his sleeping bag this time, but Izuku thought he looked perpetually tired. The pro hero swept a dull gaze over All Might and Izuku. His eyes lingered on Izuku for a moment.

"Do I know you," he said.

Izuku's heart trembled in his chest.

"I mean, y-you saw me last, last time?" He clasped his hands together so they wouldn't shake. "In the teacher's lounge. Uh."

Eraserhead narrowed his eyes at Izuku.

"Hmph," he said finally. He hadn't made the connection, then. Izuku let out a quiet sigh of relief. "You look like someone I... but—it wasn't clear."

"Maybe we just look similar," Izuku suggested, reaching up to tug at his black hair. He kept his appearance plain most of the time—just average, someone to pass on the street and not look twice at.

Eraserhead seemed to mull over it for a second. It was the longest Izuku had seen him take interest in Izuku, which was a strange feeling. Then he dropped it.

"Hmph," he said again, taking Izuku in one more time before turning his gaze to All Might. "I have lessons to prepare. Move your talk somewhere else."

"Ah— Aizawa," All Might said. "I actually wanted to ask for your help."

Eraserhead's gaze flickered to Izuku. " _You_ … want to ask for _my_ help."

All Might tried for a smile. "Would it help if I say please?"

Eraserhead crossed his arms. "You've got thirty seconds to convince me."

All Might tipped his head in Izuku's direction. "He needs help controlling the effects of his Quirk. Your Quirk lets you do things I can't. He's got potential—he just needs help."

Eraserhead didn't look particularly convinced. In fact, he didn't look very convinced at all.

"Potential," he said. He frowned. "You can't even control your own Quirk?"

"I'm a late bloomer," Izuku blurted, before All Might could edge in a word. "Really, really late bloomer. Uh. So I don't really, it's not, yeah."

Eraserhead narrowed his eyes. He pointed between the two of them.

"Why—"

"We ran into each other," Izuku said, the same thing he'd told Recovery Girl. "And fought a villain under a bridge. So, yeah. Origin story."

"It's true," Izuku added defensively when All Might looked like he was about to protest.

Eraserhead grumbled something under his breath. Then, louder, "We'll see."

 _We'll see_ wasn't a hard _no_ , which meant that Eraserhead was at least willing to give it a shot. Izuku bounced on his feet cheerily. All Might was right—it was hard for the two of them to figure out Izuku's problems, but in the meantime, Eraserhead could take away One for All if it got too dangerous.

"Am I allowed to be here?" Izuku asked as they walked to a training area. "Since I'm not actually a U.A… _woah_."

The training area was huge. Izuku should've expected it – U.A. was only _the_ best hero school, but…

Izuku spun in a slow circle, taking it in. There wasn't much, probably because the room wasn't in constant use. Izuku tried to imagine what kind of setups they could fill this place with. City simulations, maybe? A fight ring? With a mix of Quirks and technology, Izuku knew, the possibilities were endless.

"You're fine," Eraserhead said briskly. He was already laying down a set of padded mats. Izuku appreciated it; if he was sparring, he'd probably be tossed like a doll.

"You'll fight me," All Might said, sending Izuku a shit-eating grin.

Izuku gulped. "Y-you sure?"

"Oh, yes."

"Remember last time?"

They'd sparred together a few times. Izuku, with his experience and training, had been good enough to at least stay on defense and landed a few hits in. The last time, though, Toshinori had encouraged Izuku to try summoning his new power and strength to block, instead of attack, and the next thing Izuku knew he'd been punched straight into the ocean.

"Ah…" All Might scratched his head. "Sorry about that."

There was a large _thwump_ as Eraserhead dropped the last practice mat onto the floor. He glared across at them.

Izuku stripped off the light jacket he we wearing. All Might stalked across the mat and sent Izuku a predatory grin that would've made Izuku shiver if he hadn't known who the man was. He then flexed impressively. Eraserhead rolled his eyes.

"This was not a good idea," Izuku whispered to himself. Usually it was just him and Toshinori, or him and Bonestealer. Now they had an _audience_ , and not only that, but the audience was _Eraserhead_ , who a) had been looking for Izuku for a while and b) was possibly his future teacher.

And, well, the fact that he didn't look like he wanted to be here.

 _Definitely_ not a good idea.

"Come on, young Akatani!" All Might shouted.

Izuku bounced on his feet and rolled his shoulders back. He had to be smart about it. With One for All destroying his arm every time he used it, Izuku only had one chance to fully push the extent of his abilities. Really, two times, if Izuku didn't pass out from pain, but he was used to pain.

One for All was easy to call to the surface now. Izuku twisted his fingers and felt the power pulsing there, running along the inside of his wrist and hot against his skin.

Eraserhead stood nearby, watching. When Izuku turned to look at him, their eyes met; Izuku broke the gaze quickly, not sure what Eraserhead would see.

With One for All at the ready and All Might waiting, Izuku charged.

He went straight for the chest and saw All Might move to block. Then Izuku twisted, snapping out a leg instead.

All Might was sent forward a few steps. He grinned. Izuku didn't let up, pulling back One for All and aiming for the face.

All Might caught Izuku's hand. A flash. Izuku hit the ground rolling, the air knocked out of him.

He was back on his feet in an instant. All Might was there to meet him, a blur of color in Izuku's face. All Might was holding back– Izuku knew this because he was flicked back onto the floor instead of flattened against a wall.

All Might advanced. Izuku went in close, gripping All Might's arm and striking out with a foot at the same time. Power _surged_ under his skin. Izuku stopped thinking and _breathed_ , and something inside of him snapped quietly.

All Might slammed into the ground. He blinked up at Izuku, surprised and with a trace of pride. Izuku didn't stop to think about what had happened. He called on One for All, and the Quirk sang in his blood.

All Might got to his feet. There was blood on the corner of his mouth.

"Look at you," he said lowly.

The air crackled with energy as Izuku ran forwards, bringing his arm back and then swinging with all his might. Electricity coursed through his forearm and culminated white hot in Izuku's fingers.

He watched in slow motion as All Might prepared to connect, could almost _see_ One for All mirrored in both of them. A strange, living power.

The blast of power sent them both back. Izuku dug his heels in, trying to gain friction as he skidded. All Might, arms crossed over his chest, slowed. His head was bowed.

At the edge of the practice mats, Eraserhead had taken a step forward. His eyes were narrowed—he was _interested_ , Izuku thought.

But none of that mattered.

Izuku raised his hand from his side, still clenched tight in a fist. His knuckles were throbbing, but…

"It's not broken," Izuku said slowly. "It's… it's not? It's not _broken_."

All Might lifted his eyes up to look at Izuku. He took a few steps forward to see for himself, and Izuku held out his arm so All Might could see that it wasn't, in fact, broken.

"You did it," All Might said wondrously. He laughed.

Izuku took a step forwards. Eraserhead was still watching; just beyond All Might, he locked eyes with Izuku deliberately and then nodded slowly, just once.

Izuku slipped his other hand back, fingers grazing fabric.

In one fluid motion, Izuku drew his knife and took two careful, planned steps forward. He brought the knife up and pressed its tip to All Might's chest under the throat, not close enough to pose any real threat or damage but close enough for it to be clear that Izuku _could_.

"Yeah," Izuku said. In between breaths he managed a smile. "I did it."

All Might looked floored, but his smile didn't falter. Instead he only smiled wider.

Izuku lowered his knife and slipped it back in its sheath, clothing falling over it so it didn't even appear to be there.

He glanced over at Eraserhead, vying silently for approval.

"I didn't even have to use my Quirk," Eraserhead said after a moment, which was probably as close to a compliment Izuku was going to get. He frowned lightly. "But I can tell your grasp on your Quirk is terrible. You're barely controlling it if at all. It's like watching a young child develop their Quirk."

Considering Izuku hadn't even received One for All but a month ago, the assessment was fair. He _was_ like a toddler, bumbling around trying to figure out the world without breaking _too_ many things.

Eraserhead crossed his arms, apparently not done. "If you want to make it into U.A.—if you want to _succeed_ as a U.A. student, you're going to need to work a lot harder. No one will care if you're a… late bloomer, as you say. They'll leave you behind in the dust if you can't."

Izuku nodded frantically. "I know."

"Get to it, then."

They decided to test Izuku's limits. Since he'd been successful sparring with All Might—or, at least, he hadn't broken an arm—they continued down that route. Izuku left that day with both arms intact.

And so the work continued.

Izuku spent the weeks being tossed between Bonestealer and his new training at U.A., working with robots and One for All alike. It left him exhausted, but Izuku was improving.

At some point in the chaos, Izuku asked Eraserhead if U.A. would allow him to bring a knife to the exam. Eraserhead considered him for a moment.

Eraserhead shrugged. "It's not against the rules," he said after thinking for a moment. Then he told Izuku to stay put, disappeared, and reappeared with a set of dull knives. On closer inspection, when Izuku tapped the blade, they seemed to be made of a hard plastic. _U.A. Support Dept._ was inscribed on the hilts.

"They can still do a bit of damage," Eraserhead said. "The support department developed the material—they're meant for training, but they'll work in the exam."

Izuku weighed the knives in his hand. They were lighter than his own, but durable. Considering he only needed them to cut at wires or weak spots, Eraserhead was right. They would work just fine in the exam.

Under Bonestealer's watchful eye and armed with his new knives, Izuku learned to dismantle robots. Which places he could nick with knives, which points he could hit to incapacitate them. How simple, how easy they were to take down if Izuku only knew what to do.

"You're improving," Eraserhead told Izuku grudgingly after a training session.

All Might had bowed out, citing work to do with Detective Tsukauchi, but Izuku knew he was reaching his time limit, too. Izuku and Toshinori had decided not to tell Eraserhead how much Izuku knew, figuring it was better to keep the secrets between them.

Eraserhead knew about the time limit and the hero-civilian forms, but not about One for All. It was better to keep the circle closed and as in the dark as possible, Toshinori reasoned. Looking too closely, Eraserhead could probably make all the right connections.

And, he added privately, he didn't want him to get the wrong impression before U.A. or before getting to know Izuku.

Izuku didn't particularly have any issues with Toshinori's thinking. He himself was more neutral; he thought Eraserhead could be trusted, but it wasn't bad to keep him in the dark either.

"I… am?"

Eraserhead grunted. He'd wrapped himself in a blanket and was hunkered down on the couch in the teachers' lounge. In front of him was a set of books—Izuku wasn't envious.

"How does your Quirk work?"

Izuku paused, waiting for Eraserhead's attention, and then launched into thought.

"Like, you have to be looking at someone, right? That's what the goggles are for, better in a fight for keeping the enemy from knowing. And it's like, one person at a time? No—no, that's not right, that's not right, I guess you'd affect the Quirk factor…"

Eraserhead looked over. "Those are your own thoughts? About my Quirk?"

Izuku flushed. "We-well, I've had a lot of time to think about it. It's really interesting. I mean, I think I've seen you target multiple people at once, so so I assume it's, uh, based on concentration?

"And your fighting style is focused on close-combat. I mean, I haven't seen you fight much, but that would make the most sense, to disable someone's Quirk and then go in with your weapon and take your opponent out.

"So now I'm thinking, well, it would be easy to just obscure your vision, right? Or when you blink. Someone could take advantage of that, if they watched close enough in a fight, though I guess you're probably fast enough to end it before anyone could figure it out. But then there's your hair, well, there's nothing wrong with your hair, but it'd get in the way of a fight."

Izuku tapped his chin, already going down a few rabbit holes.

"And—"

"Stop," Eraserhead said, and Izuku snapped his mouth shut with an audible sound.

"Sorry, did I—I get a little excited, uh."

Eraserhead held up a hand. He touched his hair gently.

"You think this would hinder me in a fight?"

Izuku floundered for a moment, surprised at Eraserhead's question.

"Well… yes?" He found his fingers twitching, wanting to write down his thoughts, but he forced them to lie flat on his knees.

"I mean, it's really long, and it floats out of your face when you activate your Quirk. At least—well, see, I looked up a few videos after I met you since I was interested. By the way, those are really hard to find. Which is good, I guess, you're an underground hero, so the less popular the— anyway, yeah. I noticed after you used your Quirk your hair falls back in front of your eyes. There's a second of distraction that could be used against you."

Izuku cleared his throat in embarrassment when Eraserhead remained silent for a moment.

"Hm," Eraserhead said.

Izuku wasn't sure what to make of that answer.

"You figured all that out yourself?"

Izuku flushed again. "Um, yeah."

Eraserhead's mouth twitched. "Not a bad assessment. What do you think of Present Mic?"

"Uh… what do I think of him? He's really… loud? But he's nice!"

Eraserhead snorted. "You're not wrong, but I meant his Quirk. How do you think it works?"

"Oh! Oh, right. Um, well, he can just make his voice really loud, right? It's good for inhibiting people, but he could be really distracting to allies if they're not prepared or he could hurt them, too, if he's not careful. It's a little hard to tell, I guess he doesn't really have a limit unless his throat gets dry? I don't know."

"Anything else?"

"The most practical application of his voice is against other people. But I guess theoretically he could break things with his voice, if he produced enough pressure? I'm no scientist, but it'd be easy to test."

Eraserhead hummed. He reached across the table, shuffling around some things before fishing out a book and tossing it in Izuku's direction. Izuku caught it.

"A book on Quirk theory, if you're interested," Eraserhead said. "Nedzu would love to get his paws on you, I bet."

"Thanks?" Izuku said, flipping through the first few pages of the book. It did look interesting.

Eraserhead wasn't one to talk, so the conversation stilted.

But after that, Eraserhead seemed a little more willing to talk when they found themselves together. He had Izuku talking strategy: what worked in fights and what didn't, what limitations there were to this Quirk and that one.

Izuku had a pretty solid grasp on Eraserhead's little pop quizzes, if they could be called that. Maybe they were more like discussions. Whatever they were, Eraserhead started them, and then usually sat back half-asleep to nod along as Izuku started prattling his thoughts. Occasionally he'd chip in, pointing something out that Izuku hadn't thought of, or to ask another question.

It was kind of a bad thing; Izuku realized he quite liked Eraserhead.

"I just don't get why my arm breaks every time," Izuku grumbled one day, sprawling on the floor of the teachers' lounge. Toshinori was gone again. "Except for when I'm fighting you or All Might."

"I erase your Quirk."

"Except for when I'm fighting All Might," Izuku corrected, sighing. Eraserhead was right—every time the two of them sparred, he simply switched One for All off.

"Don't you have any theories in that fluff-filled head of yours?"

Izuku frowned. "Fluff-filled?"

"You're going to need to figure out something," Eraserhead said shortly. "You _can't_ break your arm every time you use your Quirk. There's no way you'll be a hero if you do. The power you possess doesn't matter if you're going to put yourself and other people in danger."

Izuku sucked in a harsh breath. He'd known that, of course. Eraserhead had made it clear he wasn't going to help train Izuku if he had no potential, or if Izuku was going to act stupid in chasing his dreams.

Not to mention, Eraserhead tended to be particularly blunt.

It just— hurt, to hear. Izuku didn't think he had another path outside of heroics.

"Yeah," he said finally. Izuku picked at the floor mat. "I've been thinking about how my Quirk works, I just—can't figure it out."

It wasn't like All Might went around breaking _his_ arms all the time, or any of his predecessors. It was an Izuku-only problem, and there weren't a lot of people he could ask.

"You'd better," Eraserhead said. "You won't last long in U.A. if you don't."

Izuku blew out air. "I know."

"Why not focus on how to channel it, then?"

Izuku's interest piqued. "My Quirk?"

Eraserhead gave a long-suffering sigh. He stared forlornly at his sleeping bag for a second and then got to his feet with another sigh.

"Come on, problem child."

"Problem child?" Izuku said to Eraserhead's back.

"Hm. You seem like the type to always be in trouble."

Izuku tugged at his sleeve. "Maybe…"

They went back to the gym. Eraserhead, Izuku was pleased to see, clipped his hair back to clear his vision. The sight made Izuku feel warm. So Eraserhead had been listening—and he'd taken the advice, too.

"Come on," Eraserhead said, beckoning to himself.

Izuku hesitated, balancing on the balls of his feet. He considered the distance between the two of them for a moment.

Eraserhead would activate his Quirk, and then he'd use his capture weapon to snare Izuku. He was quick and agile, relentless in his attack because his style gave him no room otherwise.

But Izuku didn't really have a choice. He was supposed to use One for All, in their hopes that more practice would give him an idea of how to use it without hurting himself. But it hadn't worked. It wasn't working. Izuku was stuck in a cycle, not sure how to break out.

Now One for All came to him easily. Izuku breathed, and One for All rose. A tidal wave of power he'd quickly gotten used to, though every time the wave fell Izuku got swept away in its wake. _That_ was the problem: that Izuku couldn't find a way to keep afloat, or to slow the tide.

He felt the power thrum through his body. Izuku ran forward—

—and the fight paused before it had really begun.

Eraserhead's eyes shone with power, and Izuku hissed out a breath as One for All slipped from his grasp. It felt like a candle had been put out, and now there was just cold.

Where Izuku's fist was outstretched, about to impact, Eraserhead had caught it in his capture weapon. Izuku was held there as Eraserhead stepped closer.

"See," Eraserhead said, "you're not changing anything. You're not doing anything different. The results won't change, either."

He released Izuku and stepped back. One for All returned to Izuku, gentle but deep in its power.

"What good are you doing?" Eraserhead asked. The words cut at Izuku's heartstrings. "What good does it do you, to repeat your mistakes? You're just going to hurt yourself, again."

He was right. Izuku was just going to keep breaking his arm until he physically couldn't, and then what good would that do? How was Izuku going to save people if he couldn't even make through a year?

He needed a new solution, but that wasn't quite so simple. It wasn't realistic; it would take time and practice and careful thought, and Izuku probably wouldn't figure it out before U.A., anyway.

"Not a solution," Izuku murmured to himself. Eraserhead made no move to attack, instead settling back to watch as Izuku talked himself through his thoughts.

"Not a solution, not a solution. But maybe a resolution instead…"

Something _else_.

He didn't have to fix the problem, Izuku realized. That wasn't working. He had to change the problem and limit its damage until he _could_.

"I have an idea," Izuku told Eraserhead.

Eraserhead scrutinized Izuku closely, then nodded.

"I won't erase your Quirk this time," Eraserhead said, readying himself.

Izuku chewed on his lip, but he took a deep breath, determined. He could do it.

When Eraserhead was ready, Izuku charged forward again. He curled his fingers at his side. One for All came to him to a rush, pulsing through his entire body.

Izuku raised his arm and felt One for All speed down it. His hand burned.

At the last possible second, Izuku flicked a finger out and released.

Heat pulsed through Izuku's finger as his power was discharged. A blast of energy emanated from his hand, and Eraserhead was flung back—at least a few meters.

Izuku clutched at his wrist, not daring to think his plan had worked. His hand ached.

Slowly, Izuku lifted his arm and found he could still move it. Found the skin there unblemished, his arm as whole as it'd been before.

As Eraserhead landed on his feet and approached to see what had happened, Izuku looked up at grinned at him. He held up a hand, where only Izuku's index finger had shattered under One for All's power. Nothing else.

"Look," Izuku said.

Eraserhead didn't smile. He didn't even look mildly encouraging. But the approval in his eyes—as hard to tell as it was—filled Izuku with joy.

"Still broken," Eraserhead said.

"Yeah," Izuku replied, but he was beaming. "Do you think All Might will be proud?"

Eraserhead rolled his eyes. "I think All Might is easily impressed by you. His expectations are too low."

"Oof," Izuku said, like that had been a physical blow.

"Go to the infirmary."

Izuku pulled a face. Recovery Girl wouldn't be happy to see him again—but maybe she'd be happy he'd only broken a finger.

It was better than an arm, and it meant that Izuku still had the mobility to finish a fight. On top of that, Izuku had enough training and experience that not using One for All wasn't going to be a problem.

Now, Izuku thought, between breaking a couple fingers and his skill, he was probably on par with the average U.A. applicant in power.

Izuku found himself smiling again.

"Thanks, Eraserhead," he hollered over his shoulder, scampering away.

He thought he heard Eraserhead sigh behind him.

Izuku was right about Recovery Girl. She frowned when she saw Izuku pop his head through the door.

"Not your arm again," she groused.

Izuku bounced up and down.

"Look!" He held up his hand to show her. "Not my arm again."

"Let me see."

Recovery Girl hobbled over from her desk and took his hand so she could examine it.

"So you did it," she mused. "Congratulations, boy."

"It's progress," Izuku said, starting to babble as Recovery Girl had him sit down. She kissed his hand. "I mean, I'd like to eventually not break anything. But this is great, don't you think?"

"Sure, sure," Recovery Girl said. "Come back when you figure out how to use One for All without breaking a thing, and _then_ I'll celebrate."

Izuku grinned. "But then I won't have to come back at all!"

"Cheeky boy." She pinched his arm, and Izuku yelped, leaping off the bed. "I don't want to see you."

"I thought you liked me," Izuku said, putting on a smile.

"Get out of my sight," Recovery Girl said.

Izuku saluted. He darted out into the hallway before she could chase him out, then found his phone and ran back in.

"What, boy."

Izuku opened his camera and snapped a picture of himself with Recovery Girl in the background, beaming.

"Hey—"

"Thanks, Recovery Girl! You're the best!"

Out in the hall, this time chased by Recovery Girl, Izuku sent the picture to Toshinori.

 _ **You 3:21 PM**_  
 _[Attachment: Image]_

 _ **You 3:22 PM**_ _  
Guess who didn't break his arm today?_

 _ **Toshinori 3:24 PM**_ _  
YOU WHAT_

 _ **Toshinori 3:25 PM**_ _  
I'll be there as soon as I can. WELL DONE_

Izuku couldn't stop smiling for the rest of the day.

"You seem cheery," Silver noted when Izuku snuck into her room later. "You honestly look like you're about to explode."

"Just happy," Izuku said, sprawling on her bed.

"I hate to burst your bubble," Silver said, "but I think the heads are splitting us up."

It did, in fact, burst Izuku's bubble. "Splitting us up?"

Silver ground her teeth together. A muscle in her jaw worked up and down.

"Yeah. Miss Guidance, Bonestealer, and I are staying here. You and daddy dearest are moving to some apartment or something."

The warmth left Izuku's face.

"Why?"

Silver didn't look happy. She gestured between them. "You know they keep us apart. I think they've caught on that we sneak around to meet each other."

Izuku made a face at her. "You make it sound like we're secret lovers."

"Shut up."

"But… we've been doing this for a long time now. How'd they find out?"

Silver shook her head. "You tell me. We're careful, but I guess we haven't been careful enough."

Izuku's heart sank.

"Some apartment…?"

"Don't worry so much," Silver said. Her tail swung to rap him twice on the head. "It's not like we won't see each other anyway. They can't stop us."

"Yeah. Yeah. Yeah, you're right."

" _Do_ you have a secret lover after all?" Silver teased. "With how happy you are these days."

Izuku flushed in embarrassment. "I don't!"

"Oh," Silver said, scooting closer. "You don't?"

He kicked her, his face burning. "No! I don't even know how to talk to girls!"

"You're talking to a girl."

" _Other_ girls, then," Izuku said, then thought for a moment. "I don't know how to talk to anyone in _general_. Like, what do normal people even talk about?"

Silver shrugged. "Not killing people, I guess."

"You're awful," Izuku said.

"Never said I wasn't."

"I think this is just my life now," Izuku confessed. "Sneaking around behind everyone's back."

"Traitor, you're leaving me?"

Silver climbed onto the bed and draped herself over him like a heavy blanket. She didn't budge when Izuku tried to shove her off.

"Silver," he groaned, face pressed into the blankets.

"You had this coming."

"Get _oooff_."

"Tell me all your secrets," Silver said, elbow accidentally digging into a sore spot as she changed positions. Izuku groaned.

"Get off."

"Sorry, kid," Silver said, and Izuku could tell she was smiling. "You're not going to get rid of me ever."

"I'm glad," Izuku told her, "except when you're _on me_."

Toshinori chose that moment to text.

"It's your girlfriend," Silver said, dangling Izuku's phone in front of his face. She moved it out of reach.

"I don't have a girlfriend," Izuku grumbled. Silver let him up. "Or a boyfriend. Or any friends."

"You've got me."

"I've got you," Izuku agreed.

And he had Toshinori.

And, weirdly, as the days passed and the entrance exams loomed—Izuku realized he had Recovery Girl and Eraserhead, too.

Not quite friends, not quite like Silver, but something good. Something better than what he had.

"Entrance exams are in a week," All Might said the next time they met at U.A.

Izuku didn't even look up from the book Eraserhead had given him.

"I know."

"I wanted to tell you…"

"I know, I've got to keep—"

"No, no," All Might said. Izuku used his finger as a bookmark and looked up. "You're working hard. I don't need to tell you that."

"Then… what?"

"You've come really far," All Might told him, "so I'm proud of you. No matter how those exams turn out, I'm glad I chose you."

Izuku's lip wobbled.

"Don't cry." All Might waved his hands. It was almost comical, seeing him in his hero form looking quite frantic. "I didn't tell you so you could _cry_ … no…"

"Sorry," Izuku sniffled. "Can't help it."

He wiped at his eyes. "Thanks, All Might."

"Saps," came Eraserhead's voice from behind them. "Emotion-filled lot."

All Might smiled. "You care, Aizawa."

"I really don't," Eraserhead said. "Are you done?"

"Y-yeah," Izuku replied. Now was no time for crying. He had to keep going, and he knew Eraserhead had no patience for anything else.

They ran through a few rounds of training again.

With Izuku facing off All Might, he came out unharmed save for a few bruises from landing wrong. One for All buzzed in his chest, a strange, comforting feeling—or maybe it was pride.

"Do you think I'm ready?" Izuku asked afterwards.

"For the exams?"

He nodded.

All Might pounded a fist into his palm. "I think you'll smash them!"

His moment was ruined when he coughed, hacking into his hand. Izuku dutifully handed him a tissue.

"You won't be terrible, I suppose," Eraserhead said. Izuku beamed.

They retreated to the teachers' lounge—though in Izuku's mind, it'd devolved into a teachers-and-student lounge, considering how often they let Izuku in.

"Ah, off I go," All Might said suddenly. "Would you look at the time. I'm not here!"

He vanished out the door. Izuku stifled a laugh, but sighed, realizing he was at his time limit. He'd been working this morning—All Might was pushing himself, but Izuku knew he'd do the same if he was in the same position.

"Study much?"

Izuku yawned. "Yeah, I've been cramming non-stop."

"Good. Being a hero isn't just about how well you can fight. Some don't realize that."

Izuku pulled out the books he'd brought and cracked them open. "I know."

Eraserhead crawled into his sleeping bag, the sight familiar but no less jarring than the first time Izuku had seen him like that.

"Hey," Izuku said, "There won't be any issues with my exam, right? Like, will the other teachers call favoritism?"

"You think you're _my_ favorite?"

"I don't think you favor me at all, Eraserhead."

"Good. Because I don't."

Izuku snickered.

"If you are concerned, which has no reasonable basis, the teachers and staff are all there, and we give you a grade agreed by all of us that we deem fair for your performance. So there won't be any favoritism, which there wouldn't have been."

"Oh," Izuku said. He settled in and began to read. "Thanks."

There was no reply.

After a few minutes, Izuku thought Eraserhead had fallen asleep. Not unusual, with how little sleep he got.

"Why do you call me Eraserhead?"

Izuku blinked, not expecting that.

He flipped to the next page in his book, circling the terms he didn't understand and would have to look up. "Hmm?"

He glanced up. Eraserhead was watching him, eyes barely visible as they peered out from the shadow of the sleeping bag.

"Why do you call me Eraserhead," Eraserhead repeated flatly.

Izuku's brow crinkled. "That—that's your n-name, isn't it?"

"My hero name, yes," Eraserhead said. He muttered something under his breath. "But most people only refer to me as that in the field, or in the media occasionally."

Izuku dog-eared the page he was on and shut his book.

"I just… when I first, uh, heard about you, you were Eraserhead? So I ne- never called you anything else. But if it makes you, um, uncomfortable? I can stop."

Eraserhead scoffed. "It's my name. It won't make me uncomfortable."

Izuku flushed. "Right. Right."

He played with the pages of his book for a while, not knowing what to say. Even if Eraserhead asked, Izuku wasn't sure he'd ever get rid of the hero name completely. It was too ingrained in his mind—the smell of smoke, _kid,_ the firelight on their faces, _wait,_ that scratchy, low voice, _Eraserhead_.

"What," Izuku cleared his throat, "um, what would you rather me call you instead? Of Eraserhead, I mean."

The sleeping bag zipped up a little more.

His voice didn't change one bit as he said, "Aizawa-sensei."

Izuku coughed, not sure he'd heard right.

"Sen… sensei?"

"Not Aizawa. We're not friends."

"But… I'm not…? I'm not… your student."

"Do you need your hearing checked?"

"N-no," Izuku said, then hastily tacked on, "-sensei."

Eraserhead grunted, but Izuku thought he seemed almost pleased, if he could ever be pleased. Then he really did fall asleep, leaving Izuku to his thoughts.

"Sensei," Izuku tried when he was sure Eraserhead was asleep. "Aizawa-sensei."

It was strange, but Izuku liked it. Liked what the name promised.

When Izuku slipped away from U.A. that day, he found someone waiting for him outside the gates. Dressed in a black hoodie and looking casual, Izuku almost didn't recognize Shigaraki.

"Hello, Midoriya."

Izuku's blood ran cold.

"Shi- Shigaraki," he said, stumbling over the name. Izuku hadn't seen Shigaraki since the first time they'd met.

"U.A. exams are soon," Shigaraki said. His voice was mocking.

"Ye-yeah, they are," Izuku said. He twitched nervously. Izuku didn't know what Shigaraki wanted, nor did he know why he was here and not meeting with Hisashi.

"It was my idea, you know," Shigaraki said conversationally. "To have a spy at U.A. So you'd better get in."

"I-I will."

Shigaraki nodded. Izuku's throat went dry when pale fingers emerged into the light, but Shigaraki made no move to hurt Izuku. He simply beckoned.

"Come with me."

"Wh...where are we going?"

Izuku didn't like this. Izuku didn't like this one bit. He wanted to run back into U.A., where Eraserhead was. Where Izuku was _safe_.

"Kurogiri," Shigaraki called.

Izuku didn't recognize the name.

But a darkness swept over them. It wasn't a shadow, Izuku realized, but instead it was instead a crackling, incorporeal mass. Silver glinted somewhere deep inside.

"Shigaraki." The voice was smooth. "Ah, you have the boy."

Izuku took a halting step back. "Wh- who, what…"

"Don't worry," Shigaraki said. He looked amused. "It will only take a moment."

Then the ground disappeared from underneath Izuku's feet. He was lost in darkness, nothing around him. Izuku flailed, searching for something, anything.

Izuku landed on his knees hard, panting. A scream was lodged in his throat.

Nearby, Shigaraki was standing. The mass of darkness shifted and clumped together into something that was vaguely human-shaped.

Shigaraki dipped his head in the man's direction. Kurogiri, Izuku realized. This was his Quirk.

"Useful, isn't it," Shigaraki said, watching Izuku stare. "We can go anywhere we like."

"Within reason," Kurogiri said.

"And—and where have we gone?" Izuku asked carefully.

He scrambled to his feet and took in his surroundings.

Dark wood under his feet. Soft music playing in his ears. The taste of cigarette smoke. Sweat gathering in his palms. Around them were seated people, though not many— only a couple in the far corner, out of earshot. To Izuku's right, where Shigaraki and Kurogiri were standing, there was a wooden bar and shelves of alcohol. To the left, there was a lone TV that looked old and from a decade Izuku was sure was far from his time. It was on, though nothing seemed to be playing.

"A bar?"

"Someone wanted to meet you," Shigaraki said.

Izuku spun, terrified. He had no idea where he was. He knew nothing about this place. He reached for his knives then thought better, stopping himself.

"S-someone? Does Chimera know about this?"

"It doesn't matter."

Izuku breathed in shallow breaths. "You- you can't… it doesn't matter who this someone is, you can't just—"

In a flash, Shigaraki was in front of him. He wrapped a hand around Izuku's throat, and Izuku stilled. His heart pulsed; he was sure Shigaraki could feel it, beating quickly like it was trying to escape. Maybe if Shigaraki used his Quirk, it would.

"Shigaraki," Kurogiri said slowly.

"Don't disrespect him like that," Shigaraki growled, eyes flashing. "You don't know who you're talking to. You… you…"

"Now, now, Shigaraki," a voice drawled. "That is no way to treat a guest."

Shigaraki squeezed enough to hurt and then let Izuku go. Izuku wheezed, turning to see who had spoken.

There was no one there.

But—

But the TV screen wasn't blank anymore. Static crackled across its surface, and the voice came from it again.

"So this is Midoriya Izuku."

Izuku was shaking. That voice. It was low and calm. It wasn't a voice Izuku recognized, but he felt like he'd heard it before. It was the kind of voice that echoed in nightmares and snared him in the throne of sleep.

"Yes," Kurogiri answered when Izuku was too scared to respond.

"Who- who…"

A deep chuckle.

"You've been very helpful, Midoriya. I hope to continue our work together. I think the two of us are very similar."

"A-are we?"

A hum. "Your Quirk analysis shows thought and potential. Your father knows to use it… but still, he understands not how to harness it. Very, very useful…"

Izuku shivered. He couldn't quite breathe.

"What do you w-want?"

"I simply wanted to meet you, little dragon. No harm will come to you, unless dear Tomura loses his patience. After this, Kurogiri will return you to where you belong."

Little dragon. Izuku wrung his hands together.

"And your Quirk…"

"Illusions," Izuku whispered. He couldn't speak any louder.

"Illusions," the man pondered. "Yes… how useful… how wasted _they_ would let you become. If only I could see them."

There was a beat. Izuku clutched at himself, trying to hold onto any measure of warmth.

 _Please let me leave_. _Please let me leave_.

"I will see you again, Midoriya," the voice said finally. "Kurogiri?"

"Wa-wait," Izuku said, "what… what do I call you?"

His heart thundered in his ears.

"Some call me All for One," the voice said, but his tone had changed, had become something softer but no less false. "But you may call me Sensei."


	9. Chapter 9

**Flare Signal** _  
chapter nine_

* * *

 _Khhr— khhkrrrr…_

 _Fire flickered, tongues of gold glistening in the air. Fingers pressed down on his shoulder. A voice in his ear._

"Don't fail us… that's an order."

 _Khh—_

* * *

"Those U.A. exams are worthless, aren't they?"

Izuku twisted his fingers together, playing with them nervously.

"I'm not s-sure what you.. you mean," he replied.

"The U.A. examiners… imbeciles, don't you think? They believe pitting you against robots can prove your worth. What does that mean, do you think, that only those with Quirks suited to combat are heralded as heroes?"

"I…"

Izuku wasn't sure what to think. He hated that the voice— _Sensei_ , he reminded himself, feeling a bit sick—was right. He didn't want Sensei to be right. He was a villain, he was some dark and twisted thing clinging to the underside of the city like a black mold. He couldn't be _right_.

"Look at you with your bright mind and Quirk. In such an exam, your potential is wasted."

Not knowing what to do, Izuku bowed shakily in the direction of the TV.

"Thank you," he murmured.

"Sensei."

"S-Sensei," Izuku repeated.

"Hm… perhaps…"

Izuku waited.

"No, no," Sensei said after a moment of thought, "no, not now. I was thinking… Perhaps in the future, if you prove yourself to me."

"I'll do my best, Sensei," Izuku said. He hated how steadily the words had come from his mouth.

Whatever the villain wanted, Izuku was grateful he'd decided against it. There was nothing good that could come out of it.

"Let us hope so, little dragon."

The TV settled. A quiet swept through the dingy bar, and then Kurogiri appeared at Izuku's side.

"Come, Midoriya."

Izuku held his breath as he was whisked away, vanishing into the warp gate.

Returned to Chimera's base, Izuku shivered as Kurogiri left him alone. He hated Sensei or whoever he was; hated that cramped, dark bar; hated that easy-going voice and the little box TV.

The day before the entrance exams, Izuku was left shaking, cold deep in his bones.

Izuku gave up on sleep partway through the early morning and snuck out.

Standing with his bare feet in the soft sand, Izuku allowed himself to finally breathe. Cool water washed over and then drew away gently.

Muted footsteps sounded from behind him. Izuku wrapped his arms around himself, not speaking and not turning around. A hand settled on his shoulder.

"How are you feeling?"

Izuku shrugged, turning to look at Toshinori. "...I don't know."

"Nervous?"

"Maybe." At the moment, Izuku wasn't sure he was feeling much at all. The entrance exam was in three hours, but Izuku felt strangely calm as he stared out at the sun rising above the soothing waters.

"I have faith in you," Toshinori said. He smiled. "And I know Aizawa does, too, even if he won't say it."

"Sure," Izuku said, tone far more sarcastic than he intended. Then added, "Sorry."

"No, it's alright. You've got a big day ahead of you."

"A lot's resting on today, huh," Izuku said, more to himself than Toshinori. He scrubbed a hand over his face.

Reality was slowly creeping back in around the edges. Izuku had been at the beach for the past hour after he'd woken from a fitful, uneasy sleep. He'd done a light jog, picking up a few pieces of trash he spotted, and then had spent the rest of the time trying to breathe in the crisp air.

It'd felt like he could hide here, pretend that it wasn't the day of the entrance exams. Pretend that literally everything rested on Izuku making it into U.A. Toshinori, Hisashi. Eraserhead. Shigaraki. Sensei.

"I believe in you," Toshinori said, "and don't worry too much. I know you'll do fine."

Izuku kicked at the wet sand. "Okay."

"Do you need anything?"

Izuku stared at the horizon line, deep blue meeting pale yellow.

"Just," he started, then sighed, "maybe some time alone? I'm sorry, I'm just—"

Toshinori was already nodding. "This is the last time you'll see me before the exams. And… probably for a while after." He cleared his throat, looking slightly embarrassed. "I just—ah, I mean to say… good luck."

A lump formed in Izuku's throat.

"Thank you," he said.

"I'll leave you, then," Toshinori said. He lifted his arms like he wanted to do something and then dropped them again, taking a step back. "Oh. One last thing. Aizawa wanted me to pass on a message."

"Eraserhead?"

"Yeah. He said, and I quote, _you'd better not fail this exam, problem child. I want to see you be a hero._ "

Izuku felt his mouth quirk up. "He said that?"

Toshinori scratched his head. "Well, he didn't say the last part quite like that, but I think that's really what he meant."

Izuku laughed then, and it felt good, to be able to laugh.

"I know I've said this, but I am truly proud of how far you've come."

Izuku felt determination well up in him.

"Not now," he said, looking up to meet Toshinori's eyes. "Tell me that when I'm accepted into U.A."

Toshinori's face split into a grin.

"I will," he promised, and with one last look, he left Izuku on the beach alone.

Izuku wasn't sure how much longer he stood there, thinking. Around him the city would just be waking up. And hundreds of kids Izuku's age would be getting ready, preparing for the U.A. entrance exams.

Were they as nervous as him? Did they feel the same way: like the entire world was watching, waiting for them to prove their mettle, to scratch away at the surface and show insides that were glittering and full of potential?

It would be so easy to disappear, Izuku thought. Take One for All and his own Quirk and go somewhere no one would find him. Leave all of this behind.

The thought was gone as quickly as it had come. He couldn't leave, and the truth was that Izuku didn't want to, not one bit.

The sun began its ascent across the sky. Izuku tucked his hands into his pockets and made his way back to the base. Hisashi, he found, was waiting for him.

"Breakfast," Hisashi said as way of greeting, nodding at the smooth glass table. There was a plate of tomato-cooked eggs and a small bowl of rice. Hisashi served himself another bowl and sat to eat.

"I'm not hungry," Izuku mumbled, but he pulled out a chair anyway.

"I'll drive you to U.A.," Hisashi told him over breakfast. Izuku picked at his rice.

"I can take the train."

"No," Hisashi said, "I'll take you."

Izuku gripped his chopsticks tightly, but loosened his hold after a moment, afraid with his new strength he would snap them. He didn't want to see Hisashi's face any longer than he had to.

"Fine," Izuku said through gritted teeth. "Whatever."

Izuku was tired—and he didn't have any energy to spare on putting up a fight. He knew he hadn't slept well the night before, or gotten much sleep at all. If Izuku was being honest with himself, he hadn't slept very much in the past week.

Not after meeting Sensei. The meeting the day before had been their second.

The thought made his mouth taste sour. Izuku almost gagged and then forced the rest of his food down; he shoved his plate away and left the table without a word.

"Izuku," Hisashi called after him.

"I'll be back in time, don't worry."

He couldn't stay in their new apartment—it was too clean, and too big. And too empty, and too cold. Couldn't stand Hisashi as company. Couldn't sit at the table for a moment longer or else he was scared he'd scream.

Izuku didn't go far. He walked around the apartment a few times, circling the building before heading back up to the top floor.

The new place was— nice, Izuku had to admit. Situated on the top floor of the apartment complex and the _only_ apartment on the top floor, it was spacious and well-equipped. It was modern and newly-built, much nicer than any of Chimera's other bases. Conveniently, Izuku thought privately, with no neighbors.

Even after moving in, Hisashi and Izuku didn't see each other much, which was just fine to Izuku. They occasionally ate meals together. Hisashi would meet with him to ask about training, or to give him some new information or orders. Sometimes Izuku would pass Hisashi in the living room. But that was really the extent of it.

Izuku missed Silver. He missed having her around, missed tapping messages through the walls when they couldn't speak. And she hadn't responded to his texts from three days ago, meaning she'd had her phone confiscated or she was somewhere far enough or dangerous enough they couldn't talk.

Either way, Izuku had stopped trying.

He missed a lot of things, thinking about it. As the days had drawn closer to the U.A. exam, Izuku found himself missing Mom more and more. It was a feeling he'd learned to suppress over the past few years—alongside a want to knock on Kacchan's window in that secret code of theirs, so they could talk like they used to.

Izuku figured it was probably because Mom would've been much more excited about U.A. than Hisashi was—or at least, excited in a vastly different way. Mom would've worried, too. He never thought he'd miss a little bit of last-minute nagging or her double-checking everything, but he did.

Izuku found himself tearing up for the second time that day and growled to himself, wiping them away with the back of his hand.

Maybe, Izuku thought, maybe if he was extra careful that nobody was watching—

He shoved the thought away as it formed in his mind. It was a bad idea. Someone was always watching, part of Chimera or not, and Izuku wouldn't dare to put Mom in danger again.

Izuku told himself to stop thinking about it, period. Not that _that_ had ever worked.

He tried to distract himself instead. Izuku had taken to carrying around a hand mirror with him, a little circular thing that clicked open and shut that he could fit in his pocket. He took it out now and practiced changing his hair and eye color, something that had become increasingly easier. It didn't take much concentration at all these days, and he was able to hold it longer than before.

Longer than before meant ten minutes; Izuku checked the time with his phone. He really was getting better.

Izuku changed his hair back to green and stared at his palm-sized reflection. He hated that he almost didn't recognize himself. One, which meant he'd gotten so used to dying his hair and changing parts of his appearance seeing himself as he would have been was like looking at a stranger. Two, which meant lying and hiding and keeping secrets were as easy as blinking.

He dismissed the illusion a second later, not wanting to see it. It made him feel sick and guilty.

"Izuku."

Izuku looked up. Hisashi was standing in front of him, dressed in a crisp blue suit and holding a set of car keys.

"Time to go, then," Izuku said, resigned. Hisashi nodded.

They got into the car and started the drive without much fanfare. Hisashi turned on the radio as they went, switching between a few news channels.

"— _All Might saves the day…"_

Hisashi huffed.

"— _an attack orchestrated by low-rank villains just last week was presumed to be—"_

"— _your host! Up next, reporting about the new testing being conducted by the university—"_

"— _traffic on—"_

" _...U.A. entrance exams are today! We are winding up to the next generation of heroes, and I am very excited. Of course, the U.A. hero course selection process is based on a variety of factors, some of which are more public than others. From our understanding, the entrance exam is split into two parts, a combat-based portion in which ambitious young applicants can show off their Quirks…"_

The radio switched off.

"We have very high expectations for your performance today, Izuku."

Izuku glared out the window petulantly, refusing to look at his father.

"Don't you think I know that?"

"I think you'll pass with flying colors." Izuku snapped his mouth shut. It was rare to be complimented. "Your training with Bonestealer has been more than satisfactory, and your wits will put you far above the other applicants, I believe."

"Thanks, I guess."

"I know I haven't been the most encouraging figure—"

Izuku laughed.

"—but I want to wish you luck, Izuku. You are my son. You have not disappointed me, and I don't think you will, today."

"I thought I always disappoint you," Izuku muttered. He crossed his arms over his chest.

They pulled to a stop a little whiles away from the U.A. gates—to keep Hisashi discrete, probably, but also because there seemed to be a veritable crowd outside.

Hisashi looked at him.

"You have never," he said, and Izuku dropped his gaze, shifting uncomfortably. Hisashi never said things like that.

"Whatever," Izuku said finally, getting out of the car. "Don't bother picking me up."

He shut the door and walked the rest of the way to U.A. The sight was still no less stunning. Now, though, Izuku saw rows and rows of potential students lining up to go into different examinations. The air was lively but tinged with nervousness, and Izuku felt himself feed on the energy, getting jittery.

He headed towards the doors meant for the hero course. Then Izuku tripped over his own feet.

He had a split-second thought of _oh no, I'm doomed, everything is over, goodbye world_ before Izuku realized he hadn't actually hit the ground.

Izuku gingerly opened his eyes.

"Sorry, I saw you trip and didn't want you to fall!"

He was floating a few inches off the ground. By his side, a girl was standing with her arm outstretched; she tapped his shoulder, and the weightlessness left him.

"Oh!" the girl continued before Izuku's brain could catch up. "I remember you! We met on the train!"

"...uh, wasn't that like… a really…"

"It's good to see you again. See, I told you we'd see each other here! Anyway, good luck on the exam!"

Izuku stared at her retreating back. She'd appeared and gone so fast he hadn't even known what to do or say, or had time to thank her for saving him from total embarrassment.

"Good luck to you, too…" Izuku muttered, then joined the rest of the crowd sweeping into the exams.

Izuku found himself in what looked like a large auditorium. Just like it had been outside, it was already packed with people. Izuku grunted as someone stepped on his foot and managed to keep himself from yelping _too_ loudly when someone else stepped in front of him and blocked his entire view of the front.

"Short people problems," Izuku grumbled. He found a row with a couple of empty seats and sat gingerly down in the seat at the end, wondering why no one else was there. It didn't matter. Izuku liked his space.

A glance to his left revealed the reason. Sitting in the middle of the row, teeth bared and arms crossed was, of _course_ , Kacchan.

Izuku wanted to get up, but there was nowhere else to go, not if he wanted to lose himself in the sea of people again. So instead he ducked his head down and hoped Kacchan wouldn't notice him.

Kacchan did.

He glared across the four-seat gap between them, and Izuku shrunk back instinctively.

"Do you have to be—"

Someone shuffled between them awkwardly.

"—get rid of your fucking face, why can't you just get _out_ of my _way_ —"

A microphone screeched with feedback. Izuku cringed, as did a few others, glancing towards the stage. Present Mic was on stage. Izuku perked up.

"— _so_ —"

"Hey, you," the person sitting next to Izuku said. He wasn't speaking to Izuku, though, instead looking over at Kacchan.

"What do you want?"

"Shut up."

"I'm— _rahhhh_ , I'm going to _kill_ —"

"You shouldn't have done that," Izuku whispered.

Up on stage, Present Mic leaned into the microphone. He surveyed the milling crowd for a second, most of them seated but a few stragglers still wandering around.

"YEAHH! He- _lloooooo_ , little listeners!"

The room quieted for a second, and then the chattering whispers began.

"Who _is_ this guy?"

"He looks like a radio host…"

"Dumbasses! That's pro hero _Present Mic_ , don't you know him?"

Present Mic clapped his hands together. "How are we _feelin_ ' today!"

Crickets. Izuku cringed a little. It was a hard audience, he figured, though probably because they were all nervous and wanted to get the exam over with.

"Terrible," someone in the front row yelled. Braver than the rest of them, Izuku thought.

"Good, good," Present Mic said.

The microphone screeched again, and Izuku covered his ears, hating the start to the exams. It was _not_ shaping up to be a good day. Izuku rubbed at his temples, trying to stave off the onslaught of a headache.

After a moment of deliberation, Present Mic put away the microphone, instead just relying on his Quirk.

"Let's get into it!" The screen behind Present Mic lit up. "As you may or may not know, the exam is split into two portions. One is a written examination. Boring! The other part is the fun part. Can I get a drumroll?"

There was no drumroll. Present Mic continued as if there had been.

"Yeah!" An image appeared behind him, and Izuku leaned forwards. "This part of the exam, the practical exam, is when you show off your hero-worthy skills. You must defeat the villains we send out, each one worth a different set of points. You'll be split into groups for different battle centers, where the mock battles will take place. Ten minutes on the clock to get as many points as possible."

"We have four different villains for you to face… the one, two, and three-pointers. The higher the points, the more difficult they are to beat!"

A row of robots appeared. Izuku balked at the sight. He'd trained, sure, but he hadn't known _exactly_ what to expect. Blocky, angular silhouettes, each one labelled with _1P, 2P,_ and _3P._

A boy with glasses raised his hand.

About to start his spiel, Present Mic paused. "Yes?"

"Ah, sir! You said there are four villains, but you have shown only three. Is this a mistake?"

Present Mic's face split into a blinding smile.

"Good ears, little listener! In fact, there is a fourth villain…" He waved a hand, and the screen changed to show a last silhouette.

"My apologies! Thank you!"

"...the zero-pointer!"

 _0P_ appeared under the silhouette. The room burst into whispering.

Izuku found himself puzzled, too. Zero points was zero points. There was no _point_ to fighting something that was, well, zero points.

Present Mic leaned forwards, putting his hand by his mouth like he was about to let them in on a big secret.

"Don't fight this one, kids. The zero-pointer is the largest and most difficult to beat!" He coughed. "Anyway! Your final scores will be ranked by how many villains you dispatch and how many points you accumulate."

"A few quick notes: fighting other candidates will result in immediate disqualification. Your placement in battle centers is based on your middle school - people from the same middle school will be placed in opposing battle centers. That's all there is!"

"Remember," Present Mic said, looking around the auditorium. "The great hero Napoleon Bonaparte once said... 'True heroism consists in being superior to the ills of life.' _Plus Ultra!_ Break a leg, everyone!"

Izuku was assigned Battle Center B. After Present Mic was done, Kacchan tried to reach him, probably to yell, but Izuku ducked and weaved into the crowds. They were assigned separate battle centers, which Izuku decided was a fantastic idea.

He did feel bad for everyone in the same battle center as Kacchan. Not that Izuku doubted the abilities of all the applicants around him, but because Kacchan wouldn't stand to be defeated by anyone. Combined with his Quirk, he was sure to blow through the exam.

"See you at U.A., Kacchan," Izuku muttered to himself.

As people began to shuffle in their respective directions, Izuku caught a group of teachers at the far side of the stage. Present Mic had just joined them, slinging an arm around a familiar figure—Eraserhead.

Eraserhead was scanning the crowd, taking in the prospective students. Izuku lifted a hand and waved in his direction. It took a second, but eventually Eraserhead spotted him.

Eraserhead didn't wave back, and from the distance, Izuku couldn't see his expression. But he did nod, and that was more than enough for Izuku. Then he was moved along in the crowd, their brief moment over.

The group assigned to B stepped into the battle center. Izuku stopped short, staring.

He'd never seen this at U.A., despite his training. Present Mic hadn't been exaggerating when he'd said the staff had replicated an urban setting. It looked like a real city, with tall buildings and clean streets. Bright light lit up the area. Izuku felt like he was being swallowed by the battle center.

"Woah…"

"U.A.'s rich…"

"This was _not_ what I was expecting."

Izuku didn't bother joining in any of the conversations, but he privately agreed with everyone in awe.

Suddenly he spotted the girl who'd helped him earlier—the girl from the train. She was stretching; Izuku headed in her direction, figuring he should thank her. It'd be incredibly awkward, that was for sure, but Izuku thought he had to at least wish her good luck.

"Hey!"

Izuku was blocked by a tall figure, a boy with broad shoulders that loomed over him. He chopped his arm down in front of Izuku. Looking up, Izuku caught the glint of glasses; it was the boy from earlier, who'd interrupted Present Mic.

"Uh…" Izuku said, trying to step around him. "Ex...cuse me? I'd like to pass."

"You're going to talk to that girl over there, aren't you?"

Izuku thought he was going to start sweating. Was this something normal people asked? Was Izuku doing something wrong?

"Ye— yeah?"

"She's preparing, can't you see? If you talk to her, you'll distract her."

"Uh… sorry, right. Y-yes."

Izuku decided it wasn't worth it; maybe he could catch her later, before the written exam started. And the boy was right, even if it was a little strange. Izuku would make it too awkward, anyway.

He moved off to an empty area and took a deep breath. One for All was already waiting for him. Izuku let the Quirk simmer under the surface as he reached under his shirt to pull out of the knives Eraserhead had given him.

"Hey, are those allowed…"

Izuku sighed.

"They've been approved," he said shortly. Izuku raised an eyebrow. "Shouldn't you…"

" _Okay, little listeners! Prepare for the start of the exam!"_

Far above their heads, timers with large red numbers waited, frozen at 10:00.

Izuku clutched his knife in one hand and left the other free for maneuvering. Everyone would race for the center of the city, Izuku figured. He would veer left first, try to pull ahead and maybe encounter one of the robot-villains. With no way of knowing how his fellow candidates' Quirks worked or even what they were, Izuku would have to move quickly in order to get enough points.

Knives first, like Bonestealer had taught him. Since One for All broke his fingers, Izuku would have to save them for when he really needed—

A loud sound blared. People raced ahead as loud footsteps came from the other direction.

Izuku swore, going left like he'd planned and picking up speed. A shadow fell over him, and Izuku skidded to a stop.

Slowly he looked up as the robot looked down, target locking on Izuku.

The robot was massive. Far, _far_ bigger than Izuku—or Bonestealer—had prepared for. Suddenly Izuku felt very, very, _very_ small.

"Oh," Izuku said faintly, "shit."

He dodged out of the way as a large foot came crashing down, sending pieces of pavement flying. No time to panic; Izuku had to move, to take the villain down, no matter how large it was.

Izuku gripped his knife and charged, feeling a grin spread on his face despite his nervousness and the pressure weighing on his shoulders.

Besides, Izuku thought, these "villains" were _robots_. Izuku lived with villains and saw at least one every day.

This?

Izuku jammed his knife into the back of the robot's knee, where there was a joint where the two parts of the leg connected. The robot jerked, stumbling, and Izuku wasted no time using his knife as a springboard to leap up. Fluorescent light spilled around him.

Izuku drew his other knife and defeated the robot in one doomed move, cutting through its very power source. It whirred as it started to collapse, and Izuku dropped as far down as he dared. He rolled as he hit the ground and went back to retrieve his knife.

Behind him, the street shook as the robot fell.

This?

This, Izuku decided, was nothing.


	10. Chapter 10

**Flare Signal  
** _chapter ten_

* * *

Time was ticking down. Izuku panted as he ran through the streets, searching for another robot to take out.

He dove behind a building to avoid a terrible explosion, light at the edge of his vision and sound ringing in his ears. When it passed, Izuku kept going.

He glanced up. Two minutes left on the clock.

"I need more points…"

Izuku had managed to score a little under twenty points, if his rushed calculations were any marker. He knew it wasn't enough, but Izuku wasn't fast enough.

It wouldn't be enough to get him into U.A.

"Come on…"

Izuku spotted a robot heading his way and ran towards it. There wasn't time to use his knives; Izuku had lost one of them, anyway, stuck in some poor robot now buried under rubble.

Two of his fingers were already twisted and broken. Though they throbbed dully, Izuku could hardly feel them, too caught up in the rush of the fight.

He pressed his thumb to his middle finger, ignoring the way his hand hurt, and felt One for All swell in him. He flicked out, and power surged from the tip of his finger.

The robot didn't stand a chance. It flew backwards, the center crumpling in on itself where Izuku had aimed. Another point, maybe two. Izuku had forgotten.

A minute and a half.

Izuku hissed, clutching his hand. He had to go back to using his remaining knife, or else his hand would be useless.

For the past few minutes, Izuku had fought his way towards the center of the city: where the robots seemed to come from. They quickly moved away, meeting combatants in battle, but if Izuku could reach the center, there was a chance he could catch a couple more.

There.

Izuku took off. He leapt onto a nearby mailbox and then onto the robot he'd found, clinging to its arm. His hand burned as he dug his fingers in. Tears gathered at the corner of Izuku's eyes, but he pulled himself up.

Now on the robot, Izuku dashed quickly to the base of the neck. He almost lost balance but caught himself again.

A hand came at him. Izuku jumped between two fingers and found himself in freefall for a brief moment—

He slammed onto the robot's face, its single eye gleaming red as it tried to search for him. Izuku hooked his fingers on the metal plates, pulling himself closer. Then, careful to keep his balance, Izuku used one hand to swing his knife out in an arc.

The knife broke through the glass of the eye. Something sharp bit into Izuku's wrist, but he kept going until the red light flickered, then died.

One more.

A minute left on the clock.

Izuku was running again, searching for robots. He had to climb over one, lying in the streets with a large hole gaping in its chest. He vaulted over the scattered pieces of another robot.

Minute. Minute. Minute.

"Come on," Izuku said again, searching still. "Where are they?"

There was screaming in the distance.

Izuku shifted gears and headed towards the sound. A blur passed him, followed by several people in a panic.

"A zero-pointer!" one of the kids cried. "Get out of here!"

" _AAAAAHHH!"_

"I didn't sign up for this!"

A distant robot loomed far above the city. A glittering eye searched for a target. Izuku could only make out the head of the robot through the buildings and thick smoke pouring from a fire.

The robot broke through a building, and Izuku dropped low to the ground, covering his head. Debris flew around them. Izuku shut his eyes, waiting for it to pass.

When the air seemed to settle, at least for a second, Izuku got back to his feet and turned to head in the opposite direction. He was _not_ dealing with that. Definitely not. No, sir, Izuku was going to run as far away and as fast as he could.

"Help!"

Izuku stopped.

He turned on his heel, using his hand to direct his vision.

"Help! Someone!"

Where was the cry coming from? Izuku's heart pounded. He clutched his knife tightly, looking around in an attempt to discern what he was looking for.

"Help!"

Izuku's gaze zeroed in on a small figure struggling under rubble. She was trapped, he realized—and the zero-pointer was heading right towards her.

"Don't do anything stupid, don't do anything too stupid," Izuku chanted as he ran in her direction. "Izuku, don't do anything stupid…"

As he got closer, Izuku realized he recognized the trapped girl. He was at her side in a flash, trying to pry off the rubble. Another candidate hollered at Izuku's back.

"What are you doing? You're going to get yourself killed!"

Izuku didn't care.

 _Help her._

"Hey," he said, crouching down at the girl's side. Izuku started moving away the rubble frantically. "We're going to get you out of here."

"There's too much—"

The girl slammed a hand on a piece of rubble. It began to float immediately, but her face turned green, sick with the effort.

The ground shook underneath them. Izuku swore again.

 _Save her._

"Go!" the girl shouted.

Izuku did as she said—but he ran towards the zero-pointer. Someone screamed.

Izuku launched himself in the air.

 _Help her. Save her._

It was the same instinct that had led Izuku to put himself in front of Toshinori, the first time they'd met. It was the same instinct that had driven Izuku to fight the sludge villain when he'd seen the look on Kacchan's face.

It was the same instinct, pushing Izuku to act. Being a hero, Toshinori had called it.

"Come on…" Izuku said to himself.

There was a moment before the chaos—just one. Izuku breathed.

Power swelled in him, gathering like thunderclouds before a storm. One for All spread and leapt down his arm as the robot in front of him locked its single eye on him.

The blast left Izuku's fingertips. A shockwave travelled back up his arm as he was blown away by his own Quirk. There was a screech of metal as the robot crumpled, destroyed by One for All.

Izuku had about a second to celebrate victory. Then he started to fall.

 _Great_ , Izuku thought. He'd gone and done something stupid after all.

"Hey!"

The girl Izuku had just helped was suddenly floating next to him. She reached a hand out, and Izuku stretched out his uninjured arm. He twisted, trying to get closer.

Their fingers brushed, but it was enough. Izuku came to a sudden stop as the girl released Izuku's body from the confines of gravity. They hung in the air for a moment, staring at each other.

"Release," the girl whispered, reaching out for him again. She dropped them slowly but steadily, activating and releasing her Quirk until they drifted to the ground. Once down, the girl immediately leaned over and puked.

Izuku, unsure if he should do anything, patted her back gingerly.

"Thanks," she said after a while, straightening. Her face was pale, but she managed to smile at him. "You saved—"

" _And that marks the end of the exam!"_

"It's over," Izuku said to himself, turning in a slow circle to survey the damage. "Wow."

The city was half in ruins. It was a good thing it wasn't real. Large buildings had been destroyed. The fire Izuku had passed earlier seemed to have died down a little bit.

All around them, robots were in pieces on the ground. Izuku looked at the remains of the zero-pointer and only felt a sort of strange awe.

The applicants were all directed towards the exits. They would take a short break to recuperate while the staff prepared the next portion of the exam.

Some of the people were told to stay still as Recovery Girl swept through to heal any injuries with her Quirk. Izuku sat down slowly on a large piece of cement; the girl, though mostly unhurt, plopped down next to him.

"Hey, that was really cool! Your Quirk is amazing."

Izuku stared at her. "My Quirk is amazing? Have you seen your Quirk?"

"You destroyed that robot like it was nothing!"

"Uh," Izuku said, feeling like he was missing something. "Your Quirk lets you reverse gravity, doesn't it? I think that's way cooler than mine."

"No way!"

"Way," Izuku said.

"Oh, I didn't get to finish! Thank you for saving me…" The girl wiped sweat from her brow. "I really thought I was done for."

"O-oh," Izuku said, rubbing the back of his neck. "I'm, well, I'm sure others would've come. And I mean, the teachers really wouldn't have, have let you be crushed by the zero-pointer or anything, you know?"

"Still, that was really heroic of you."

Izuku ducked his head. "...Thanks."

"I'm Uraraka, by the way! What's your name?"

Izuku opened his mouth and closed it again, remembering the right name to give.

"Akatani," he said, holding out his uninjured hand to shake. "So, your Quirk…"

A tapping sound interrupted him. Izuku looked away from Uraraka to meet Recovery Girl's stern gaze.

"A-ah… hi, Recovery Girl?"

"Of course it's you," she said, pursing her lips in disapproval. "Come on, boy, I have others to get to. Let me see."

"Only a few fingers," Izuku said, holding his hand out.

Recovery Girl tutted. "You didn't break this many before," she said, but she pressed a gentle kiss to Izuku's knuckles. "Goodness, finally, I'm not going to see you for a week until results come out."

"Hey," Izuku protested. "You like me."

She shoved his head. "Don't get silly thoughts like that stuck in there."

Recovery Girl turned to Uraraka. "Any injuries?"

Uraraka shook her head. "A few bruises, but I think I'm okay!"

Recovery Girl checked over Uraraka anyway, telling her to be sure to rest and take a drink and snack during the break to recover from the strain of her Quirk.

Izuku flexed his fingers. Good as new.

Still, the fight and Recovery Girl's Quirk had drained his energy. Now Izuku staggered to his feet, catching his balance.

"Want to walk together?"

Izuku shrugged.

Uraraka kept up a steady stream of chatter as the two of them left the battle center together. She talked about her own ambitions in heroics and wondered about his.

Izuku didn't say much.

"I want to help people," he told her when she asked.

She kept the conversation flowing as they were ushered into a large room that looked like a cafeteria, set with tables. Already the room was filled with people, chatting about how their exams had gone and cramming quickly for the written exam.

"-nervous? I studied a lot, but to be honest, I don't know what to expect from a written exam about heroics. Definitely probably questions about real-life situations I guess, and what choices to make, but I don't know…"

Izuku nodded along. He searched the crowd for Kacchan but couldn't find him anywhere. Izuku guessed that was a good thing; they wouldn't run into each other. Izuku didn't want to see his childhood friend, especially since said childhood friend apparently hated his guts.

Akatani Mikumi, not Midoriya Izuku. But whatever. Kacchan didn't know they were the same person.

"-wonder if they've got snacks? Recovery Girl said something… oh, there!"

Uraraka, grabbed Izuku's arm and pulled him in the direction of where a group of kids wsas crowding. She squeezed through, and Izuku followed, uncomfortable with the push and pull of the bodies around them.

They reappeared on the other side victorious, clutching energy bars and juice pouches.

Izuku spotted a corner where they could hide in and gently steered his new friend in that direction.

Izuku and Uraraka sat down together. He pulled his knees to his chest and ate the energy bar slowly. It was a good idea to take a break between exams—the practical exam was demanding, not to mention tiring. Izuku imagined if they'd been shoved into desks and had thick exam papers piled in front of them, he'd have fallen asleep in an instant.

Uraraka chatted with Izuku for a few more minutes. She asked him about his Quirk, noting its power and its drawbacks. Izuku gave a few vague answers, not really trusting either of them.

In turn, Izuku asked about Uraraka's Quirk, which he discovered really was an anti-gravity Quirk. The possibilities and the fine details of it made Izuku want to barrage Uraraka with questions, but even Izuku knew that made for a bad impression.

She was nice, though. Izuku liked her a lot.

It wasn't often Izuku got to spend time with kids his age. It made for a strange experience but not an unwelcome one. And Izuku had missed this, too; even with Silver and all of his teachers, he never had the chance to connect with someone who was really _like_ him.

He felt a little disappointed as time was called. The bright mood in the cafeteria deflated, talk quieting.

"I think we're in different rooms," Izuku said, smiling apologetically. "But, um…"

"That's too bad!" Uraraka tapped her chin. "Are you free after the exam?"

"Uh… uh, what?"

"I asked if you were free after the exam," she chirped. "We could hang out."

 _Hang out_ wasn't really in Izuku's dictionary, but with time running out, he accepted warily. They planned to meet just outside the main entrance once the exam let them out.

"Hey," Izuku said, as they walked together as far as they could to their examination rooms. "Good, um. Good luck."

Uraraka beamed, and Izuku knew it'd been the right thing to say.

"You too!"

The candidates were put into classrooms, with an exam proctor to watch over them as they tested. Izuku's proctor was Vlad King, who introduced himself as the Class 1-B homeroom teacher. Izuku had heard of him in passing but had never gotten the chance to see him, nor did Izuku know his Quirk. He seemed kind, though—encouraging, despite his large stature and almost rough look.

Vlad King went quickly over the parameters of the exam, not wasting any time. Then there were tests in front of each of them.

Izuku flipped to the first page.

 **U.A. ENTRANCE EXAMINATION: WRITTEN PORTION**

 _General Heroics_

 _Rescue Efforts_

 _Combat Situations_

 _Publicity & Media Attention_

 _Hero Choices_

Izuku flicked his gaze up to the clock on his wall and sighed. He turned to the next page, greeted with questions and empty boxes to write his answers in.

It was a long three hours. The only reprieve was a short, fifteen-minute break in the middle. Izuku put his head down the entire time and reconsidered the whole 'hero' thing. This sucked.

Izuku scribbled in his answers. The exam wasn't difficult. Some of the questions were easier to answer; others, it seemed, had multiple 'right' answers.

By the time Izuku was on the last few questions, he thought his brain had turned to mush and his hand to jelly. Looking around, his fellow test-takers didn't look any better. One student had given up, putting her head down on her desk.

 _ **Given two choices that are both morally 'wrong,' what is the best course of action?**_

Izuku frowned at the paper. He didn't like the question. It was vague (though Izuku didn't think specifics would make it any better), and he wasn't sure there was a right answer.

"Both wrong…," Izuku mumbled under his breath. "Two choices that are both wrong…"

The exam seemed to be mocking him.

He could practically hear Bonestealer's voice crooning in his ear.

 _So what'll it be, kid?_ The tap of Bonestealer's cane against the ground.

 _If you don't want to help us, I do have some means of convincing you…_ A sharp smile. The first time Izuku had been threatened, years ago, but the memory was so vivid it hurt.

 _Take your pick._

Izuku screwed his eyes shut. No. Not here, and not now. He just had to get through the exam—it was just one question.

He'd do the opposite of Bonestealer, Izuku figured, if given the question.

Not the right thing, but the best thing. That was all Izuku could think to do. He started writing.

Before Izuku knew it, time was up. He sat, tight-lipped as Vlad King collected their papers.

"Well done, well done," Vlad King said, going down the aisle. He smiled at Izuku when he got to his seat. "Don't be nervous, I'm sure you did great."

Izuku fidgeted in his seat as Vlad King picked up the last of the papers.

"You've done it," Vlad King announced, "you've finished the U.A. entrance exam."

A loud cheer echoed through the examination room. Izuku smiled faintly.

"I know you're all in a hurry to leave, so I'll make this quick. Results will be sent out in a week. You'll be contacted by mail with an acceptance or rejection letter based on your cumulative performance in the practical and written exams. In the meantime, keep your hopes up! And Class 1-B is the best, by the way, so don't be discouraged if you're placed there. That's what the B stands for, best."

A laugh rippled through the room.

"You're free to go," Vlad King said, stepping over to open the door. "And of course, please don't discuss the exam or exam questions with anyone!"

Another, quieter laugh rippled through the crowd as they all swarmed for the door. Right, like that was going to happen. The moment they left the room, there would be talk of what had been on the exam and who put what on which question.

"Thank you," Izuku said as he passed Vlad King.

"Good luck!" Vlad King responded, holding the door wider. Someone ducked under his arm to continue out.

Izuku headed for the main entrance of U.A., looking for Uraraka. It was bright outside, now just after noon.

"Hey! Akatani, over here!"

Izuku spotted Uraraka standing by the gates, waving a hand. He jogged in her direction.

"So you _are_ free, right?" she asked.

Izuku shrugged. He didn't have any plans, and he'd told Hisashi to leave him alone after the exam.

"Yeah. I'm good. A-are you sure you want to, uh, do whatever? I mean, we're kind of strangers. Not that I'm a creep or anything! I promise I'm not a creep."

"Well, we're not really strangers anymore. I firmly believe there is nothing like bonding over the shared suffering of an exam!"

Izuku decided he really couldn't argue with that.

Uraraka smiled. "I already contacted my parents to tell them I was going to stay out a little longer. Hey, are you hungry? There's a ramen shop down the street I hear all the U.A. students go to."

"Whatever works."

They did, in fact, end up getting ramen. The lines were long, though, but Izuku didn't mind, just glad to be out of the exam.

"That was tough, huh," Uraraka said, sipping at a spoonful of soup.

"Yeah," Izuku agreed. "I'm going to burn all my study materials later, probably."

Uraraka laughed.

"I hope we both get into U.A.," she said, tone sincere. "I think you're really cool."

Izuku choked on a noodle. Uraraka reached across the table to pat his arm as Izuku wheezed.

"Th- thanks," Izuku said, "You, too."

"We're friends now, right?"

"...we are…?"

"We are!"

"Oh. Okay."

Friends: two, Enemies: too many to count. Izuku had levelled up, it seemed.

"I'm not sure I'll get into U.A., though," Izuku confessed, staring down into his soup. He stirred it with his spoon and watched the particles swirl about. "I don't think I did so great in the practical exam."

Uraraka frowned. "But you demolished that robot at the end! That has to count for something."

Izuku shook his head. "I don't know… I mean, Present Mic said it was useless, right? He even told us not to fight them."

"Yeah, but there has to be a reason for the zero-pointers, right? Besides, even with that one, I'm sure you got plenty of the other villain-bots."

"Not enough," Izuku said, frowning, "Probably twenty points, maybe more."

"That's— not bad," Uraraka said, faltering. "Hey, that's not fair, though. You saved my life…"

"No, it's not," Izuku agreed, "but I can only hope it's good enough. Sorry. What about you? I'm curious how you used your Quirk against the robots."

Uraraka lit up. "Oh!"

Izuku was happy to listen as she described using her Quirk to manipulate gravity. By making the robots weightless, it was easy to send them crashing to the ground, destroying them.

"That's… really, _really_ cool."

Izuku's analytical brain started kicking in. He wondered about what Eraserhead would ask about the Quirk, what questions he'd pose to Izuku if they were discussing it.

He muttered under his breath about the different possibilities. Used on herself, it could be a cool and effective way of transportation by pushing off objects and timing the activation and release of gravity. And it would be really useful in a fight. But mostly it would rely on close combat, _though_ maybe Uraraka could launch some kind of projectiles from a distance. It was hard to judge how well that would work, but it was a cool thought. Eraserhead would've asked how well Uraraka could use her Quirk for stealth, or for situations—

"Uh, I _think_ what you're saying is really cool, but I also can't quite make out everything?"

Izuku stopped.

"Was- was I saying all that out loud?"

Uraraka nodded. Izuku blushed, waving his hands in front of himself frantically in apology.

"Sorry, sorry, I just get a little, I think your Quirk is, uhh, really cool, that's all!"

"You said something about transportation, right? And close combat, and stealth?"

Izuku was impressed she'd been able to catch all of that in the midst of one of his mumble-storms.

"Uh, yeah. Haha. Yep."

Bowl of ramen finished, Uraraka pushed it to the side, propping her chin on her hands.

"You seem like you have some really good ideas, Akatani."

"A-ah… I'm a bit of a Quirk… er, enthusiast," Izuku stammered, "I mean, I'm not- I'm no expert or, or anything, but I- I like to think about this kind of stuff in my free time."

"Tell me more about my Quirk!"

"You're.. encouraging… me?"

"Please?"

It was too hard to say no, so Izuku obliged. He launched back into his thought process, careful to slow down so his words were intelligible. Uraraka was a good listener, though a bit excited, interrupting to make a comment or correct Izuku if he made a wrong assumption.

The afternoon passed just like that. The next time Izuku blinked, the sky had changed, and the day had slipped away without him even realizing.

Uraraka's dad called her—the only reason they realized they'd been out for so long.

"I've got to go," Uraraka said apologetically, twirling a piece of hair around her finger. "But it was really nice to talk to you!"

"Yeah, um. Same."

"Here—"

Uraraka held out her phone, opening a new contact. Izuku took it warily, but Uraraka insisted on Izuku putting his number in.

"So we can tell each other about our results!" she said cheerily. "And like I said, we're friends now."

Izuku's resolve crumbled to nothing.

"Okay," he said finally, tapping in his number. "Um… here."

Uraraka smiled. "I'll see you around, Akatani!"

Left alone outside the ramen shop, Izuku fiddled with his fingers for a moment, wondering if the past few hours had actually happened. He'd made a _friend._ They'd _hung out_ together. And afterwards, she'd actually liked him enough that she wanted to keep in _contact_ with him?

"Wonders never cease," Izuku said to himself, starting his own journey back.

Hisashi wasn't at the apartment when Izuku returned, which suited Izuku just fine. He wouldn't have to look at Hisashi and feel like he'd failed.

With lunch taken care of, Izuku decided to take the rest of the day easy. There was nothing he had to do, nor was there anyone talk to, so Izuku curled up on the couch with a book. He flipped absentmindedly through the pages, skimming more than reading.

His phone buzzed on the coffee table by him. Izuku checked it.

 _ **Unknown Number 4:22 PM**_ _  
Hey this is Uraraka! :)_

Izuku typed out a quick reply and added her to his contacts. His contact list was growing; there were seven contacts now, though Izuku wouldn't use half of them.

The wait began. Izuku checked the mail every day, even though he knew the letter wasn't going to arrive until a week later. He found himself pacing the length of his room nervously.

At one point Izuku got so nervous he accidentally powered up One for All and broke through the wall separating his bedroom from the hall.

Hisashi appeared in the carnage, looking decidedly confused.

"Just testing out a new Quirk," Izuku said, voice deadpan.

Hisashi rolled his eyes.

"Sorry," Izuku said, trying not to laugh. He hid his hand behind his back. "Um, I'll… I'll work on replacing the wall. Good thing we have guest bedrooms!"

Izuku didn't dare try anything else. Instead he practiced with his original Quirk, pushing it to the limits. His broken finger he had to splint; Izuku went quietly to a nearby emergency room to get it set. Out of commission for a month, he was told.

Yeah, without Recovery Girl, any kind of adult supervision, or his wits, Izuku decided he needed to keep things calm until the letter came.

A week later, the exam results arrived as promised.

Izuku's heart fluttered as he snatched the envelope out of the mailbox - one of the only two pieces of mail they'd received. He tossed the other envelope, addressed to Akatani Hisashi, on the dining room table for Hisashi later.

Hisashi was in the living room, head bent over papers he was reading. Probably a report from one of the others. He lifted his head when he heard Izuku rush past.

"Izuku, is that—"

Hisashi was ignored. Izuku went straight to his room, shutting his door and clutching the envelope with shaking hands.

"This is it," Izuku whispered, staring at the envelope, sealed with the crest of U.A. High. "This is really it."

He'd been waiting nervously the entire past week, and it was finally here.

Izuku suddenly didn't want to be alone, though the only other option—opening it with Hisashi watching—wasn't very comforting either. Izuku opted to open his phone, pulling up the chat with Uraraka.

 _ **You 1:30 PM**_ _  
Just received my letter from U.A. Hope the results are good._

 _ **Uraraka 1:30 PM**_ _  
ME TOO! Good luck._

Izuku eased the flap of the envelope open carefully, and then took a step back when a hologram appeared in the air.

He smiled when he saw All Might.

" _...recording? We are? Oh, ah, ahem!"_

All Might spread his arms out, grinning.

" _Greetings, young Akatani! This is your U.A. results letter… and I am here! To tell you your results, of course."_

"All Might…"

Izuku hadn't seen Toshinori in a week, just like the man had told him. It was nice to hear his voice again, even if it was just a recording and not the real thing.

" _To begin, I am pleased to tell you that your score on the written examination was good. The graders were pleased with your answers, and you passed that section with no issues."_

Izuku sighed in relief but chewed on his lip nervously. All Might had started out with the written portion, which meant that there were problems with Izuku's practical portion. Probably.

 _All Might's face turned grave. "However…"_

Izuku covered his face, then peeked through his fingers.

" _Your practical exam, on the other hand…"_

"There it is," Izuku muttered. "I'm done. I'll never be a hero. This is it."

" _You defeated twelve villain-bots, culminating in a point-total of 23 points. This alone is not enough when compared to the scores of the other potential students."_

Izuku swallowed hard. His legs gave out from underneath him, and Izuku slid to the ground. He'd been right. He really failed the exam.

" _But do not lose hope, young Akatani! Before I continue, I would like to show you… ah, can we get that clip… er, is it working?"_

All Might smiled awkwardly at the camera. " _Please allow us one moment for technical difficulties."_

Technical difficulties?

What kind of _technical difficulties_ were there to Izuku failing the exam?

" _No, no, just play the- yes… we discussed this…"_

The hologram seemed to disappear. Then a different scene opened, and Izuku watched in confusion as the clip began to play.

" _Excuse me?"_

"...Uraraka…?"

It _was_ Uraraka, approaching one of the teachers. She looked nervous but determined. Izuku couldn't tell when this occurred, but he guessed it was probably after the exams in the past week. Why were they showing him Uraraka, though?

" _I wanted to ask if it was possible… to share my points. With my fellow candidate Akatani."_

Izuku's mouth dropped open. Share her points? _Share her points?_

But…

" _He saved my life!"_ The Uraraka on-screen waved her arms in a large gesture. " _I spoke with him afterwards, and he said he didn't think he was going to pass. But he deserves to! I know it!"_

Izuku felt the familiar feeling of tears beginning to slip down his cheeks. The two barely knew each other, and yet—

" _He saved me."_ Uraraka's face was set with a determination that Izuku knew wouldn't budge. " _And even though the examination is judged on points… is judged on how well you can use your Quirk… shouldn't it be judged on acts of heroism as well?"_

The clip stopped there, and All Might reappeared in frame.

" _Young Uraraka here is correct… We at U.A. did not grant her request of splitting her points. However, there was an undisclosed, secondary criteria to the exam that no examinees were informed about."_

All Might was smiling again. " _For those who are pursuing heroics cannot only defeat villains. We were also searching for selflessness, a desire to help others… something that you displayed."_

All Might glanced off-screen.

" _And so, while you were only awarded 23 combat points for defeating villain-bots… the examiners awarded you with an additional 53 rescue points for your bravery and show of selflessness. Therefore, your total is 76 points, putting you in second place behind Bakugou Katsuki with 77 points."_

A scoreboard appeared. Izuku was happy to see his name there - second to Kacchan, like All Might had said. Uraraka's name was also there, in 4th place.

The screen switched to a freeze frame caught of Izuku mid-air. The sight knocked the air from Izuku's lungs. He had his arm outstretched, about to fire One for All at the zero-pointer. His hair blew around him; on his face was a determined, set expression, with brows drawn and teeth bared. A fire was blazing in his eyes.

Izuku had never seen himself like this. It was— it was… it awakened something inside of Izuku then.

" _So I am pleased to tell you,"_ All Might continued, " _that you have been accepted and will be attending U.A. as a student in the upcoming school year."_

Izuku clutched his chest, then slowly lifted his hand to cover his mouth as he started crying.

All Might's smile shifted a little, and he stepped closer to the camera.

" _Well done, young Akatani,"_ he said quietly, " _and I promised to tell you this when you passed the exam… I'm proud of you. I'll see you soon."_

On the ground next to him, his phone buzzed with messages, but Izuku couldn't bring himself to respond. Instead Izuku sank back on his knees, holding the acceptance letter close to his chest.

 _ **You 1:42 PM**_ _  
[hacker voice] ...I'm in!_

 _ **You 1:43 PM**_ _  
I mean. You already probably know that but_

 _ **Eraserhead 1:44 PM**_ _  
why are you texting me_

 _ **Toshinori 1:44 PM**_ _  
Yes!_

 _ **Toshinori 1:45 PM**_ _  
You could at least try to sound excited, Aizawa. I know you are._

 _ **Eraserhead 1:46 PM**_ _  
Why would I pretend to be excited_

 _ **Eraserhead 1:47 PM**_ _  
I better not be getting texts from this group chat. Unless it's an emergency. Maybe not even then_

 _ **Toshinori 1:50 PM**_ _  
Congratulations, Mikumi._

 _ **You 1:51 PM**_ _  
Technical difficulties?_

 _ **You 1:52 PM**_ _  
Really. I couldn't have done it without either of you. Thank you._


	11. Chapter 11

**Flare Signal** _  
chapter eleven: interlude i._

* * *

Aizawa Shouta had seen a lot of things.

It was the upside—or, in his opinion, the downside—of being a pro hero. The best parts of it, grateful faces and the sharp zing of victory that gave him a rush no cup of coffee could. The gritty parts of it that no one liked to talk about, the blood and the aching bones and failure. He'd seen it all. He always thought he had.

Then pro hero Eraserhead hadn't been able to stop a kid, to help him—

 _Shouta gritted his teeth, holding his concentration and tugging at the spindly thread of his opponent's Quirk._

 _It unraveled in an instant, a brilliant thing that hummed and sang sweet songs._

 _Then Shouta lashed out with his capture weapon, aiming to restrain the villain's movements. His opponent slipped underneath them, short stature and small body lending to a speed Shouta hadn't expected. He began to run towards the exit; Shouta gave chase._

" _Who—" he started, but he was cut off by the sight of fire spilling in from the other side of the building._

 _His opponent spun, hand reaching into his pocket and retrieving a small vial filled with liquid. Shouta didn't like the look of it. Poison, or some sort of chemical compound that could disable Shouta, maybe. He tossed his capture weapon again, but not fast enough._

 _The vial shattered on the ground. Seconds later, Shouta threw himself backwards, cursing internally. Fire rippled between them, lighting up the area and changing the visibility._

 _Shouta drew his arm up, trying to cover his face from the fire._

" _For what it's worth…" The man spoke for the first time, voice softer and smaller and kinder than Shouta had expected. "...I'm sorry."_

 _He blinked. Felt his Quirk settle as it slipped away from him. Shouta lowered his arm slowly, staring at the firelight dancing across the man's face._

 _No._

 _That wasn't right._

 _This wasn't the villain Shouta was looking for, or the one he'd expected. This wasn't a man at all, but a_ boy. _He couldn't have been much older than Shouta's own students. Suddenly instead Shouta saw Konuma's face instead, then Nakamura, then each of his students instead. The ones that he'd taught and raised and watched after._

 _He couldn't find his voice._

" _You're a kid—"_

" _Eraserhead!"_

" _Eraserhead," the kid said, as Shouta reached out for him. "You're— good, you know that?"_

 _Good. What did that mean,_ you're good, _what did that mean. Like the kid was telling Shouta he himself was bad, or_ you're good, _like Shouta was a good man or a good person or a good hero._

" _What are you doing with a group of villains?"_

 _There was distant shouting from Hizashi, but Shouta ignored it. He could wait._

 _The kid's eyes flickered up to Shouta's face. Shouta tried to memorize the kid's features—the dark hair, the shape of the eyes, the slope of the nose and the mouth. But even with the fire casting light between them, it was hard to make out a face to commit to memory and not so simple as taking a picture._

" _You think I have a choice?" Shouta snapped back to the present, a shiver going down his spine. "I'd be on your side if I could, hero."_

 _The kid was already turning away. Shouta lost side of his face, but he caught the bitter edge to his voice._

 _No. No._

" _Wait," Shouta called, moving forward._

 _The kid smashed another vial on the ground, and Shouta was forced to retreat before he was burned. He watched the kid go, grinding his teeth and crying out in frustration. Slipped through his fingers. Gone._

—then pro hero Eraserhead had failed, and Aizawa Shouta was left with the fallout.

The sight haunted him for weeks. Then months.

"He could've been one of ours," Shouta said, voice low. He clasped his hands in front of him, leaning over his knees. "He could've been one of _ours_ , Hizashi."

Hizashi looked tired. Drawn. Sad.

"I know."

His voice, usually a volume Shouta couldn't stand, was quiet now. Shouta missed its loudness, loath as he was to admit it.

"That's what I can't get over," Shouta said, suddenly furious. His hands unlocked, and he pounded a fist into his palm. "He could've been— he was the same age as one of _our_ kids, he said, he said he didn't have a choice…"

"No leads?"

Shouta scoffed, leaning back.

"Drink?"

Hizashi passed over the mug, half-full with beer. Shouta wasn't a drinker by nature—he didn't like the taste, and he didn't like what alcohol did to the senses, to the mind. But he drank a little anyway, angry and confused and desperate.

"I've been looking," he admitted, passing the mug back. Shouta shook his head. "Nothing."

"He must've been following you for a while," Hizashi said, rubbing at his face. "Right? You caught him watching you once, but that couldn't have been the first or the only time."

The thought didn't make Shouta feel any better. Hizashi tried to smile, but it didn't come out quite right. It just wasn't one of those nights.

"You can keep looking tomorrow," his friend said finally. Hizashi took the blanket from its place over the back of the couch and draped it over Shouta's shoulders. "And the next day, and the next. We'll find him. Get some sleep, yeah?"

Shouta grunted as Hizashi settled next to him.

"You take up too much space," he grumbled as Hizashi stretched out.

"I got here first."

Shouta rolled his eyes. "I've been sitting here this entire time, Hizashi, don't be stupid."

The lamp by the couch clicked off. Hizashi nudged Shouta with a foot in his way of telling him to go to sleep. A few moments later, Hizashi was snoring.

Shouta didn't sleep that night. He didn't often sleep. Instead he made sure Hizashi was sound asleep before he left the apartment.

They'd pulled another late night on their joint hunt for the kid. Shouta gotten some security footage from around the abandoned area that the kid had been seen, but it was spotty and gave no new information.

His descriptions and memory of the kid were too vague. There were too many possible connections without a solid piece of evidence to link back. And with the factory burnt down, there was no chance of finding anything useful.

They thought he might be connected to the rising of the villain organization Chimera, but the connections were flimsy. Chimera, as far as the heroes and police knew, only had four members, and none of them fit the kid's description. But four people _had_ been spotted with the kid in a grainy shot of their escape before they'd all frustratingly disappeared.

Mission: Extra Credit, as Hizashi had dubbed it, was not going well. Shouta hated the name, but like all things, it stuck.

Shouta didn't like to give up on things. There was a difference, in his opinion, between a failed case and one with a spark of potential. He didn't give up on his students—only pushed them to meet the mark he thought they could, and if they couldn't, he let them go somewhere where they _could_ reach their potential. It wasn't giving up, not the way he saw it.

Instead Shouta moved Extra Credit to the back burner. He kept up his hero work, prepared for the upcoming school year (Shouta was _not_ looking forward to his newest batch of bright-eyed hopefuls), and when he had a spare moment, thought over his failure and how he could make it right.

He wasn't particularly pleased when Nedzu announced that All Might was joining the U.A. staff as a teacher. All Might was— well.

Shouta didn't hold anything against All Might, of course. He'd done a lot for their society. He carried the streets and the cities and the people on his shoulders. He saved people. He smiled, and Japan smiled with him.

But All Might was a flashy hero. He was the kind of hero that Shouta wasn't. The kind that could sail through U.A. entrance exams, whose Quirk let him leave people enraptured and dazzled. And though he had smarts, he wasn't the brightest of the bunch, or always the most perceptive.

Then All Might asked for help.

It was a day Shouta remembered, particularly because he'd never imagined _All Might_ asking _him_ for help.

In came Akatani, a scrappy, skinny thing that honestly looked more like a bean sprout than a person. He was excitable and emotional, and he had eyes that seemed to fill with stars when he looked at All Might, the way every kid did.

Shouta watched as All Might prepared, rolling up his sleeves with a confident smile. Akatani faced him head-on, despite the fact that he didn't have much of a chance of winning.

He was fighting All Might. He wasn't going to win.

"Come on, young Akatani!"

Akatani seemed to gather his courage. He glanced over at Shouta and met his gaze; his eyes were dark and glittering with intent, but Akatani dropped his eyes not long after.

Shouta turned his attention to the fight. Akatani raced forwards and feinted towards All Might's chest. Then he kicked out in an attempt to sweep All Might off his feet.

It wasn't going to work, mostly because All Might was practically pure muscle. But it _did_ make him stumble, which Shouta figured was as good as it was going to get.

Akatani aimed for All Might's face. All Might grinned and caught his hand, then with a flash of power, he tossed Akatani to the ground. He wasn't using his full strength, of course, but Shouta winced slightly anyway. That would hurt.

Akatani recovered well. He rolled, keeping his momentum, and was back on his feet. All Might was there to meet him. He threw Akatani back again, slamming hard on the floor.

All Might smiled the way he always did when he was going in for the metaphorical kill. He closed in on Akatani like a prowling tiger. Shouta was unsurprised with the results, but he had to acknowledge Akatani had tried.

Maybe he'd make a last stand with his Quirk. Strength augmentation, or something similar to All Might's, if they were fighting like this.

Akatani darted in, getting in All Might's face. He grabbed All Might's arm, holding him in place for just a sent to kick out with a foot.

Shouta leaned forward, not sure why he was trying again when it hadn't worked the first time.

Then All Might flew backwards, landing on the ground and looking up with surprise etched on his face. Shouta found himself surprised, too. He hadn't expected _that._

"Look at you," All Might said.

Akatani charged forwards again. The air crackled slightly. When Shouta looked closely, he could see pale light forming around Akatani's arm—a fainy physical manifestation of the power he carried. He'd break his arm, probably what he'd been doing before.

Shouta prepared to use his Quirk but waited just a moment longer.

All Might moved to meet him. They connected.

Both Akatani and All Might were sent backwards. Akatani skidded as All Might recovered. Shouta stepped forward, eyes widening when he realized Akatani had not only done that, but he hadn't broken his arm.

Akatani reached the same conclusion.

"It's not broken. It's not… it's not? It's not broken."

All Might approached slowly, all intent of fight gone from his form. He looked at the hand Akatani held up to show him.

"You did it," All Might said, laughing.

A moment of weakness. The fight hadn't ended, Shouta thought. A perfect opportunity.

Akatani's eyes drifted past All Might to look at Shouta. Shouta nodded at him.

 _Take it. Take the chance._

Akatani reached back slowly. A glint of steel—a knife.

Then, smoothly, easily, Akatani strode forward, drawing his knife and placing it on All Might's chest.

"Yeah," Akatani said, voice breathless. "I did it."

Shouta hadn't had much hope for that one. Now interest sparked like flint and steel.

Something latched on and refused to let go.

It was like looking in a mirror. Just a little bit. Enough for Shouta to be take interest.

Akatani's smiles were wide and his dreams gleaming. When he talked, it was with a lot of energy. His mind was a brilliant thing, something to be polished with a little encouragement.

But like All Might, like Shouta himself, like all the heroes that had come before him and all that had come after, Akatani had a weight he carried in his heart. A sadness. Something that left them all stumbling in the dark, searching for the lights. Something that kept them grounded, kept them from spreading their wings in flight and instead sent them spiraling downwards as they tried and tried again.

That was what Shouta saw.

Didn't light cast shadows? Didn't pearls form from grit?

"Do you think I can be a hero, Eraserhead?"

Shouta blinked at the ceiling, only half-awake. "What kind of question is that."

"...Do you?"

"Why are you asking me," Shouta tried again.

A sigh. "Because I look up to you as much as I look up to All Might," Akatani admitted, and Shouta sat up. "And because I want to know. You have high standards. I heard you're ruthless."

"Ruthless is only a word," Shouta said, feeling slightly pleased.

"You're avoiding my question," Akatani said, frowning. "If you don't think so, you should tell me. Or— I think you, well. You would've told me by now, huh?"

He'd come to the same realization Shouta had.

"Get back to studying and stop bothering me," Shouta said. He laid back down. "I want sleep. You're not going to be a hero if you fail that exam."

"Right!"

As Shouta closed his eyes, he could hear the smile in Akatani's voice. Like the sound of hope.

The U.A. entrance exams drew closer and then passed.

In the viewing room, Shouta leaned against a wall, opting not to sit. All Might was close by; so was Hizashi.

Shouta didn't play favorites. It wasn't fair. (All Might, on the other hand, had a huge soft spot for Akatani and could hardly hide it. Others were bound to notice eventually.)

Shouta did, however, give credit where credit was due.

"Zero-pointer to Battle Center B," Nedzu directed. Hizashi did as was told, and the teachers moved closer to see the candidates' reaction.

Most ran. Disappointing, but not entirely unexpected. It was important to value yourself and your life, and if it didn't look like you could win in a fight, the best thing to do was run.

"There, that girl!"

Uraraka Ochako, who'd shown a surprising amount of promise. She'd done well. Shouta had seen her use her Quirk to destroy robots in quick fashion, and to save someone from being crushed by a falling part.

Now, at the end of the exam, she was losing her energy. Her Quirk still seemed usable, but Quirks were a part of the body. It took a toll, Shouta knew.

Trapped under a pile of rubble with the zero-pointer in sight, it seemed inevitable she would either have to find some way to escape or she'd have to face the zero-pointer with a depleted Quirk.

"Nedzu, should we—"

Nedzu shook his head, holding up a paw. "Not yet. Teachers, please direct your attention to Screen 13-A."

So when Akatani, points only rallying up to a disappointing twenty-three, appeared on screen in the final two minutes, Shouta leaned forward, intrigued.

All Might shifted. The glow of the screens reflected in his eyes.

"Hey," Hizashi hissed in a voice that was way too loud to be a whisper. "Isn't that that kid you were talking about?"

"Yes," Shouta said, "now shut up and watch."

Akatani had that kind of gritty resolve that didn't go away easily. Shouta knew why All Might had taken Akatani under his wing: because he'd seen a roaring fire in his spirit.

It came as no surprise when Akatani stopped to help Uraraka, and certainly as no surprise when he ran straight _towards_ the zero-pointer.

Towards, not away.

"Come on…" All Might murmured.

With a pulse of that endless power, Akatani blew the zero-pointer to pieces. The teachers rose, talking to each other in equally wondrous and panicked tones as Akatani plummeted towards the ground.

Uraraka saved him at the last minute. Time was called.

"There it is," All Might said, sounding breathless. He coughed into his sleeve and laughed wetly. He was smiling, more than a little proud.

In the end, it was an easy choice to make. A selfless desire to save others, disregarding the danger. Enough rescue points to put Akatani on the board, and not only on the board, but in the second spot.

Shouta admitted he deserved it.

From the selection of candidates that were put into Class 1-A, Shouta thought he was going to have an interesting year.

Then again, having to wrangle and teach a bunch of heroics students made _every_ year an interesting year. Just the way Shouta liked it.

A week out from the school year's start, Hizashi called Shouta to help him look at a new case that had come up.

"You should be preparing for classes," Shouta said, dragging himself from the teachers' lounge where he'd made his permanent residence. "I'm drowning in papers."

" _Yeah, yeah. Come on, Shouta, I really think you'd be interested."_

"I'm never interested," Shouta said, halfway out the gates of U.A. "Just tell me where to go."

The crime that had been called in was a simple break-in.

Well, Shouta amended, if it could be _simple_ to break into a police station.

"Eraserhead, sir," a police officer greeted him. "Thank you so much for coming."

He nodded curtly. "The others?"

Shouta was led into a back room, where Hizashi was standing looking at a few screens displaying security footage.

"You're here," Hizashi said. He looked excited and a bit relieved. "Made it in no time."

"What's going on."

"The perpetrator, whoever it was… they weren't very interested in much, to be honest. They broke into our filing cabinets and took a bunch of files on pro heroes—of course, you know we keep those just as reference, without much sensitive information and more of a simple description, hero name, Quirk, that sort of thing."

Shouta nodded. "That's all?"

He still wasn't sure why Hizashi had called him here, but his friend held up a hand. _Wait for it._

"They also… left something."

Shouta raised an eyebrow. "Purposefully? Or on accident."

"Er…" The policeman scratched his head. "Well, they put it right on our boss' desk, sir, so we think it was on purpose."

"Anything of interest?"

Hizashi snapped his fingers, too excited to contain himself. "That's just the thing, my friend."

They brought it out.

"A notebook."

It'd been a long day already, since Shouta's day typically started at around two or three in the morning. He'd picked off a few petty criminals, almost taken home another cat, and had written so many words he never wanted to see his own writing again.

And now this. Shouta had been called from his work to look at an emptied filing cabinet and a notebook.

Not a weapon of mass destruction, not some bomb that was slowly ticking down that they needed to diffuse, not even a coffee-maker, which he would have appreciated.

"Wait wait wait. Wait, wait, wait wait," Hizashi said, bringing the notebook closer. "I know what you're thinking! I know what's going on in that brain of yours—"

"Get on with it."

"It's got a load of information in it, Shouta," Hizashi said, "and that villain organization you've been keeping tabs on? The one we think is connected to Mission: Extra Credit? This notebook is chock _full_ of it."

"Hand it over," Shouta said. Hizashi passed it over.

He flipped through the pages. It was a small notebook, and only about a fourth of it had been filled. A couple pages, but…

"Now you're interested, huh."

"Can you make copies of this?" Shouta asked. "And send them to me, please. Make sure this is kept safe. How sure are we that this information is accurate?"

"Some of the information matches up with what we have," Hizashi responded. He pointed to one computer screen, where files had been pulled up. Pictures of Chimera members, profiles, information. Not that there was much.

"Only some?"

"Well, we didn't have the rest of it, Eraserhead, sir. Some of it is new."

Shouta scanned the notebook again, reading through it quickly. Notes and notes about the three heads of Chimera: the Dragon, Miss Guidance, and Bonestealer.

The Dragon and Bonestealer had the most information. Miss Guidance was the most spare of them all and no mention of her Quirk, but there were a few scribbled notes about her fighting style and a little about her personality.

The analytical profiles of the villain reminded Shouta strangely of Akatani. He wasn't sure why—probably because Akatani liked Quirks, and liked analyzing Quirks, if Shouta knew anything from their discussions.

He briefly entertained the thought of showing the notebook to Akatani, but he dismissed the idea almost immediately. It wouldn't make sense; he wasn't a student yet, and certainly didn't have a provincial hero license.

Shouta turned the idea over in his head again.

Maybe not this information specifically, no. But soon he'd have access to the next generation of heroes: a group of some of the brightest minds and spirited fighters. While Shouta couldn't divulge anything sensitive without clearance, he _could_ devise lessons.

Students surprised him like that. They always found a way, if they were good. They had ideas that Shouta didn't; their experiences were different, so their ideas were different.

"You've got that look on your face again, sensei," Hizashi teased, waving a hand in front of Shouta's face.

"What look. I always look tired."

Hizashi pulled a face. "Yeah, but you've got that look on your face like you want to pull another one of your logical ruses again."

Shouta frowned at him. "They work, don't they?"

"And they scare the crap out of students! I love seeing their faces. Call me over when you're testing out the kids, I want to see their reactions."

"Mm, don't think that's a good idea. You'd give it away."

Hizashi squinted. "I am _very_ good at keeping secrets and you know it."

"You are _very_ good about being loud."

A policeman cleared his throat.

"Right, right, sorry. Oh, yeah! You guys were just telling me as Eraserhead came in here… about the weird thing…"

"Here, watch this."

The security footage was played back. It was caught in a loop—an easy thing to rig, if you knew what to do.

At first glance, Shouta knew that everything would seem normal. On second glance, you'd see that nothing was perfect.

There was always a second where things didn't line up. A moment when things would glitch, or when a mistake occurred.

Those were the moments pro heroes and detectives alike had been trained to catch. You had to search for the end of the rope in what looked like an endless, tangled knot—and then once you found it, you could start unravelling it.

"This was last night, by the way. Late. Only a few of us were working then."

Only three policemen were visible in the tape that was being played. It looked like a quiet, easy night.

This repeated—Shouta caught the policeman at the front desk drinking from a coffee mug at the same time every few minutes.

Yet right when Shouta was about to lose his patience, the footage changed. The loop stopped. The footage blurred and then refocused, and there was a figure that hadn't been there before. Hooded, dressed in black. Standing at the file cabinets in the back, clutching a set of files.

"That's him?" Hizashi asked.

Shouta found himself breathless as the kid shut the cabinet drawer again and looked around. He pulled a device from his pocket and paused.

Then the kid looked right at the security camera. With the hood over his face and a mask pulled up, Shouta could hardly make out his features. Only a set of eyes. Even so, Shouta knew it was him. It had to be.

"That's him," Shouta breathed.

Then the kid seemed to vanish as all the lights on-screen went out. When they came back on, the kid was gone.

"There's something we don't understand about the whole situation, see. The feedback loop was useless… he stopped it, which is why we are able to see him. And no one saw him come in or out. He must have run when the lights went out, but we're not sure how he got there in the first place. Our guys on duty last night only reported what they thought was a brief outage, no sightings of anyone breaking in or out. The only reason we even found out in the first place was the notebook and when we were looking to review pro hero Endeavor."

The policeman was right. None of it made sense. The useless camera loop. The notebook. The brief glance at the camera.

Shouta paced the length of three tiles back and forth for a moment, thinking.

"He wanted us to see him," Hizashi said. Shouta stopped to look at him. "I mean, that has to be it, right? The notebook, the camera loop. He wanted us to notice him, so someone would look for him."

"Copy the footage and send that to me, too," Shouta said, a sour taste beginning to accrue in his mouth. "If you will. I think that's as far as we'll get today, but let me know if you find anything else."

"We'll look into it," Hizashi promised.

There were still questions Shouta had. Things he should ask as a pro hero, as an investigator, as was his duty.

But Shouta left anyway. He'd come back again when his thoughts weren't creeping behind him like a dark shadow. When he could think clearer and better about the situation.

"I was beginning to think we weren't going to see him again," Hizashi admitted later, when they returned to U.A. to camp out. "Was hoping that maybe it was a one time thing and the kid got himself out of there. I mean, it's been months. Can you imagine…"

Shouta let out a long sigh. "So the search continues."

Hizashi stole Shouta's newly-brewed coffee and drank loudly from it.

"So it does," he said, raising Shouta's cup in the air. Shouta snatched it back and inhaled the fragrant aroma of coffee.

He wasn't going to get much sleep tonight.

 _...At this point, pro hero Kamui Woods arrived on the scene. Unable to do anything about the fire, he instead faced off against villains identified as Miss Guidance and Bonestealer. However, he was quickly injured and rendered unconscious, but left alone. The Dragon was seen standing watching the flames, but the fire surrounding him was too volatile and hot to approach._

 _We were also able to identify the Silver Scorpion. She did not participate in the fight, and when approached, quickly escaped. The appearance of these four confirms the sighting of Chimera, though their end goal was not clear. The apartment building they burnt down was mostly devoid of people; therefore, our conclusion stands that this incident was a test of prowess and a show of power. Attention and incitement of fear._

 _Policemen and firefighters were able to put out the fire. We pursued them, but focus remained on making sure all civilians were evacuated. The members of Chimera that were spotted were lost, disappearing despite our best efforts. No security footage from the surrounding area showed anything out of place or any sign of the villains. Our search into alternate means of transportation or concealment continues, and this file will be updated if we learn more information._

 _Last note: a young girl escaped from the apartment complex. Relatively unharmed, she was put under supervision at Ogachi Central Hospital. When questioned, she claimed she was trapped inside of the building (general smoke inhalation and aftereffects confirm this). However, she told officers she was saved by a hero 'Deku.' Cross-referencing our reports and files, we have not been able to find any trace of this hero 'Deku' — he is not a registered pro hero, sidekick, or intern. There was a figure spotted nearby that potentially matched her description (it is unclear at this time), though he disappeared soon after the incident was over._

 _However, new information about Chimera suggests this figure was not 'Deku' as the girl had described but the co-conspirator Mirage. Mirage is relatively new to Chimera, or at least has not participated in many activities. His existence was debated by detectives for months after new claims appeared; however, this sighting and captured photograph attached proves his existence and work with Chimera. There is little to no information about Mirage, and we are unsure of his Quirk. However, we believe he assisted not in the fight but instead in getting the villains away undetected._

 _With the little information we have, we presume this hero 'Deku' mentioned before is perhaps a vigilante or civilian who stepped in to assist with the situation. We are unable to find any information about a potential connection to Chimera or his status as a vigilante, and unless 'Deku' resurfaces, we will consider him a civilian and file him irrelevant to our investigation…_

 _Eraserhead: we have also sent over your requested information and security footage from last week, as well as this new incident. Please contact us if you have any insight or any other requests to make. Media attention has circulated around Kamui Woods as well as the fire, so be careful in your investigations not to release anything we have given you. Take care._


	12. Chapter 12

**Flare Signal** _  
chapter twelve_

* * *

 _ **Uraraka 6:20 AM**_ _  
See you at school today! We can get lost together :D_

Izuku chuckled as he read the text, getting ready and pulling on his new school uniform. It fit quite well and was surprisingly comfortable. Izuku admired the blazer and tugged at the stiff material of his pants. He hadn't dressed in a school uniform in a long time—it was unfamiliar, new.

Izuku had rejected Hisashi's offer to take him school again though Hisashi had insisted. Hisashi watched Izuku as he put on his shoes, slinging his bag over his shoulder.

"Bye, I guess," Izuku said.

"I'll see you later," Hisashi responded, cut off when Izuku shut the door behind him. He took a deep breath, enjoying the morning air.

"It's going to be a good day," Izuku told himself, marching to the elevator that would take him down to ground floor. "Nothing bad will happen today. Not at all. Good times only."

He texted Uraraka back. They agreed they'd meet in the same spot they had after the exams, and then they would navigate the school halls together.

Well, Izuku figured. He already knew where Class 1-A was, so there was no need to get lost. The only perks to spying, he supposed.

He arrived at school on time, slinking through the gate. Uraraka arrived a few minutes later, bouncing with excitement. Izuku smiled.

"Hey!"

"Hey, Uraraka," Izuku greeted.

"Nice day, isn't it," Uraraka said breathlessly. Izuku had to agree. He liked the springtime; it wasn't too warm or too cold, a nice breeze drifting through. The sakura had already bloomed, framing streets in beautiful pink clouds and falling petals that Izuku had enjoyed on his way to school.

"You don't think we're late, right?"

"Nah," Uraraka said, "and besides, it's only the first day. So there's no _way_ our teacher could be mad at us if we get lost."

"We're not going to get lost," Izuku promised. "I know the way?"

"You _do?"_

He nodded. "Come on."

The two friends talked excitedly about the upcoming school year, from the teachers ("Pro hero Eraserhead for homeroom," Izuku said) to the classes ("A lot of practical training, probably") to their new classmates ("If Bakugou Katsuki isn't there, I'm going to be very surprised").

"How do you _know_ all this stuff?"

They stopped outside of the classroom labelled 1-A.

"I just do," Izuku said lightly, and pushed open the door.

He was met with a wall of sound. Izuku looked around, confused, trying to get his bearings. Uraraka winced.

"Yo," one of the students said, perched calmly in one of the front seats.

"Please get your feet off the table!"

"Don't tell me what to do, loser! I'll put my feet on the table if I fucking want to!"

"It's such a nice way to start the day, don't you think?"

Izuku stared at the scene unfolding around him. "Uh, uh, wha?"

"And this is the famed hero school…" Uraraka said beside him, sounding just as lost.

"Happy first day," Izuku said, voice flat. He holds a hand out woodenly for a high-five. Uraraka slapped their palms together, careful not to make him float.

"Happy first day," she agreed.

"Ah, it's you! From the exam!"

Oh. Izuku remembered the boy standing in front of him. He was the one to interrupt Present Mic and who'd stopped Izuku at the beginning of the practical exam.

The boy bowed. "I have to apologize for my words."

"What," Izuku said.

"And I want to commend you for your actions in the exam! You figured out what I did not—defeating the zero-pointer and getting those rescue points."

"You, uh… I had no idea?"

"Even more commendable."

"Thanks...?" The word came out weakly. Izuku was already beginning to feel overwhelmed. He'd forgotten what a bunch of teens stuck in a room together was like, and he didn't like remembering.

"Iida Tenya, pleased to make your acquaintance."

"Uh, same?" Izuku cast a panicked look at Uraraka, like, _please help me, I don't know how to talk to people._ "I'm Akatani Mikumi."

"I'm Uraraka Ochako," Uraraka said, bouncing in and smiling.

" _Oy, Akatani, come over here so I can—"_

"Shut up," a voice snapped from behind them. The class quieted somewhat. Uraraka turned around and shrieked in surprise and fear.

Izuku turned, looking down expectantly. A yellow caterpillar—sleeping bag, he reminded himself—was inching along the ground, stopping in front of the door. Izuku stepped politely out of the way.

The sleeping bag opened, revealing a tired-looking face and a juice pouch. Then it fell away as their homeroom teacher stood.

Izuku smiled cheerily. "Good morning, Era—Aizawa-sensei."

"Hm," was the only response Izuku got. It made him grin wider.

"Get in a seat. This is no time for fooling around. I'm your homeroom teacher—you'll refer to me as Aizawa-sensei and Aizawa-sensei only." He eyed Izuku. "Eraserhead, if you have to. Why is nobody moving?"

The students scrambled to find their seats. Izuku was put near Kacchan, which made him uneasy, partially because Kacchan immediately turned to glare at him and partially because Kacchan was _right there._ Where he could potentially discover everything Izuku had and was working for.

Fine.

Totally, totally fine.

"Uh, sir, are we, uh, going to the assembly?"

Izuku knew the answer.

"Absolutely not," Eraserhead said. "We don't have time for an assembly. It's useless, anyway. Your time here is fleeting, and I have a lot to teach you before you get set loose in the world. Everyone get dressed and meet me outside in five minutes."

"Holy..." another student said, the moment Eraserhead disappeared out the door. He was probably headed towards the training grounds.

To Izuku's left, panels opened up to reveal sets of gym uniforms. He pulled his out. It was nothing more than a simple blue, white, and red suit, made of a lightweight material.

The students headed to the locker rooms to change, talking to each other but keeping their teacher in mind.

"He's kind of scary..."

"He's not that scary," Izuku said. "Like. Just saying."

"He's totally scary. Look at that face, right?"

"Hey, do you think the girls will look hot in their gym uniforms?"

"They're gym uniforms, Mineta. Gym uniforms. Also, shut up."

The talk continued well into the locker rooms.

Izuku didn't bother joining in on very many of the conversations. He got dressed quickly, hiding in a corner in the hopes that no one would catch his scars, and then was out of the locker rooms in record time.

He was the first to show up. Eraserhead was waiting, glancing at a stopwatch impatiently.

"The others?"

"Changing," Izuku responded. "If they're not on time, will you kick them out?"

"I'll consider it," Eraserhead said. Izuku glanced at his feet, glad he was there early.

"Got any, uh, logical ruses planned for today?"

Eraserhead raised a brow. "Where'd you hear that from."

"Oh," Izuku said, shrugging. He waved a hand. "Around."

"Say anything and I'll actually kick you out, Akatani."

Izuku saluted, grinning. "Yes, sensei."

The other students began to trickle in, gathering in a small crowd. Uraraka made her way to stand next to Izuku.

"Any idea what we're out here for?"

This Izuku didn't actually know. He shrugged.

"Listen up," Eraserhead called. "Before we begin any actual training, I'm going to run a Quirk Apprehension test. In middle school, there were restrictions and limitations placed on your Quirks… here, there are none except your own. Bakugou Katsuki."

Kacchan stepped forwards.

"How far could you pitch a ball without your Quirk?"

Kacchan thought over it for a minute. "Sixty-four meters."

Eraserhead procured a softball and handed it over. "Try now, with your Quirk."

Kacchan grinned. He tossed the ball in the air, testing its weight, and then cranked his arm back. When he released it, there was a loud _boom_ as his Quirk propelled the ball forwards.

The flaming ball streaked through the air, almost out of sight. Izuku watched wordlessly as Eraserhead's counter ticked up.

"Over seven-hundred meters with the Quirk."

Kacchan looked more than pleased with himself. He cracked his knuckles and returned to the crowd, though he wasn't smiling.

"This test will show your limits with your Quirk…" Eraserhead began. His eyes crinkled. "...and whoever places last in the end will be expelled."

"Woah, woah, hold up, what?"

"I didn't sit through three hours of exams for this!"

"We just got here!"

"That's not fair," Uraraka cried.

Eraserhead crossed his arms, waiting for the protests to die down. "My class, my rules. If you're hopeless, you don't deserve to be here… and I'll ask you to leave."

Izuku almost snorted, but it turned into a coughing fit when Eraserhead's gaze landed on him. Dramatic. Izuku was about eighty-percent sure Eraserhead wouldn't _actually_ expel anyone (twenty-percent unsure about Mineta, who seemed smart but maybe not the best guy). As long as every one of them had at least a little potential, they'd be fine.

 _Probably._

Izuku would do his best, anyway. He had to.

"So don't be last, then," Eraserhead said.

The test began.

Izuku did do his best, though it was hard. He still didn't have control over One for All ( _that_ was fun), so he couldn't use it the way the others used their Quirks. With One for All, it was either the full 100% or none at all, so Izuku had to choose between destroying his body or doing without it. Toshinori had told him with time and practice, he'd be able to scale back to different percentages.

Still, Izuku did well by his standards. He was fit, thanks to Toshinori and Chimera. He was fast, used to running for his life.

By the time they reached the third trial of Eraserhead's test, though, Izuku was dead last. Kacchan was first.

"Come on, Akatani," Eraserhead said, after everyone else had gone. He held the ball out to Izuku like it was an offering. His eyes searched Izuku's, a promise and a challenge. If Izuku didn't know any better, he thought Eraserhead was smiling.

Izuku took the ball.

"Show me what you're made of."

This, Izuku could do. One for All hummed in his fingertips.

"Go beyond," Izuku murmured to himself, preparing to pitch the ball. When he let go, One for All raced along the pads of his fingers and poured outwards. " _Plus ultra."_

The ball seemed to disappear into the sky; the numbers on the counter climbed higher and higher until they surpassed even Kacchan's. Izuku allowed himself a private smile, but he knew he'd have to work harder to use One for All to his own full potential.

"Satisfactory," Eraserhead said. Izuku rejoined the rest of his classmates, who were murmuring appreciatively.

"That was so _manly,_ dude!"

"Er, thanks," Izuku said.

"So powerful…"

"Broke a finger… what kind of Quirk…?"

"No way Aizawa-sensei can kick you out with a Quirk like that…"

Kacchan stormed towards him. He looked mad, though Izuku didn't know why.

" _You,"_ he seethed, stalking forwards. His hands sparked. Izuku took a step back but held his ground. It was just Kacchan. He knew how Kacchan worked; he could deal with him.

Izuku didn't have to, though. Eraserhead's capture weapon wrapped around Kacchan, holding him in place. Eraserhead didn't look sorry in the slightest.

"Don't make me use my Quirk," Eraserhead said. His hair floated around him, eyes gleaming red. He let go after a moment, and used one hand to shove his hair back. "It gives me dry eye, so I'd like to not use it where I can. I didn't think I'd have to today."

It took a moment, but eventually Kacchan calmed, sensing he'd lost the fight. He sulked at the edge of the group, other students skirting away from him.

Izuku had placed dead last, but…

"The expulsion was a logical ruse," Eraserhead droned. He didn't look in Izuku's direction. "I wanted to see you push yourselves to the limit, and there's no better way than to dangle a light threat over your heads."

"A light threat?"

" _Man!"_

"Dismissed," Eraserhead said curtly, and the students began to swarm back towards the locker rooms, eager to change. Izuku lingered behind.

"So I'm not expelled, huh?"

Eraserhead snorted. "Don't make me regret it, problem child."

All Might appeared suddenly in front of them. "I am here!"

"We noticed," Eraserhead said, "How nice of you to grace us with your presence."

"You're welcome!"

"We'll have to work on your Quirk," Eraserhead continued, nodding at Izuku. He turned to All Might. "If you're mentoring him or whatever it is, you're going to have to figure this out."

All Might nodded seriously.

"You don't have zero potential," Eraserhead told Izuku. "If you did, you really would've been expelled."

"I heard you expelled an entire class," All Might said.

Izuku sucked in a breath. "An entire class?"

Eraserhead didn't respond to that.

"Go to Recovery Girl for your finger," he said instead. He nodded at All Might. "Let's talk."

Izuku waved as he left.

"See you later?" All Might asked, catching Izuku before he went. Izuku nodded. They'd met a few times prior to the school year, but not often. It'd be nice to see Toshinori on a daily basis.

"How many times can you break your bones, boy?" Recovery Girl asked. She hadn't even looked up from her work.

"You knew it was me?"

Recovery Girl pointed at a bed. "Only you would show up here on the first day of school."

Izuku considered that a fair point and decided not to argue.

In a moment his finger was all better.

"Is it true," Izuku said before he left, "that if you keep breaking your bones, they get stronger?"

Recovery Girl sent him a flat look. "I'm not telling you the answer to that, and you'd better not test it."

"I won't, I promise."

Uraraka was waiting for him as the school day ended. She was standing next to Iida, who waved.

"Oh," Izuku said, surprised, "hey, guys."

"Hey, Aka—"

"— _tani!"_

"Is that Bakugou?"

"Uh-oh."

"You'd better run."

Kacchan appeared, jabbing a finger in Izuku's face.

"Look," he snapped, "I don't care if you want to be a hero, okay? Whatever. But _don't_ try to pretend you're better than me, stop acting like I'm someone you're looking down on."

"Okay," Izuku said, letting him continue. He didn't even bat an eye as Kacchan stepped even closer.

"Hey, woah," Uraraka said, trying to get between them.

"We are fellow classmates!" Iida chopped his arm in a downwards motion. "We should not treat each other like—"

Kacchan whirled on them. "Shut up," he growled.

"It's okay," Izuku said.

"You think you can beat me," Kacchan said lowly. "You think I need your pity, or your help. I don't."

He shoved Izuku once.

"Eat my dust," Kacchan growled in Izuku's ear and then stalked off.

"Huh," Izuku wondered, watching his back. "It's like he's a whole other person…"

Kacchan was competitive and driven, Izuku knew that. He'd always admired that quality about his childhood friend. That was what made Izuku chase after him.

It was strange, the way Kacchan had threatened him. Like he thought Izuku pitied him, or he thought that _Izuku_ thought he himself was the better one of the two.

That wasn't true. Kacchan was always the better of them, but that didn't mean that Izuku didn't want to be the best.

"You act like you know him," Uraraka noticed, "were you two friends?"

"Friends? That was not friendly behavior."

"Ah, uh, no," Izuku said, "we, um, we've just… run into each other a few times."

"He really hates your guts…"

Izuku shrugged. "Yeah, he can join the club."

The others stared at him for a moment. Izuku winced.

"Uh," he said, trying to think of a new topic. "What do you guys think of E—uh, Aizawa-sensei?"

"That trick he played on us was cruel," Uraraka said as they left the school.

"Well, it worked, didn't it?"

"Still," Uraraka said, "when I was imagining what our homeroom teacher was like, I wasn't imagining him. The way he showed up at the beginning of class today?"

Izuku winced sympathetically.

"Yeah," he said, snickering when he remembered the look on everyone's faces. "Eraserhead's something, isn't he?"

"Eraserhead?"

"I meant Aizawa-sensei," Izuku said, blushing. He'd have to get used to it eventually.

"You seem to know everyone," Iida noticed. Izuku shook his head.

"Not… really," he protested. "I didn't know you, right?"

Iida gestured with an arm. "I saw you stay behind to talk with Aizawa-sensei, and when I checked again, I saw All Might there as well. If you know them, why didn't you get into U.A. on recommendation? Why go to the exam?"

Izuku squinted at Iida. "You think Eraserhead would recommend anyone?"

"I guess not," Uraraka chipped in, looking thoughtful. "He doesn't seem like the type."

"And besides," Izuku said, half to himself, "I just don't think it would've been fair. If To— if All- All Might recommended me, the expectations would've been too high, and the media would go crazy. I don't think being recommended is a bad thing, but scoring well on the entrance exam was a chance to prove to myself and everyone else I could do it, right?"

Iida thought about it. "I suppose," he conceded.

"Ooh, do you think All Might will teach us tomorrow?" Uraraka paused as a thought struck her. She stopped and pointed at Izuku. "Wait, do you _know_ All Might?"

Izuku squeaked. "No?"

She narrowed her eyes at him. "That didn't sound very convincing."

"Uh…" Izuku chuckled nervously. "Would you look at the time, right? Haha, I should probably get going…"

"How do you know All Might?"

"We met under a bridge sort of?"

Iida stared, puzzled. "You met All Might.. under a bridge?"

Izuku crossed his arms defensively. "Yeah. You can ask him tomorrow if you want."

"Wait, but…"

Izuku sighed. He held up a hand. "You know how I break my fingers when I use my Quirk?"

Uraraka and Iida nodded.

"So All Might's Quirk is really similar to mine. I, um, asked him to help train me a little bit, but we're not close or anything," Izuku explained, thinking on the spot. "So I don't _know_ know him, but I know him, I guess?"

"That's so cool!"

"I guess…"

They moved on to different topics, which Izuku appreciated. It kept the heat off his back.

His thoughts drifted away from the friendly conversation partway through. Izuku thought instead about the mistake he'd made the week before.

It wasn't— well, it wasn't a mistake. Izuku would've saved the girl in the fire again. Every time. Saving her life wasn't a mistake.

But Izuku had slipped up. He'd carried her out to safety, and the little girl had clung to him. Hands fisted in his shirt. Large brown eyes blinking trustingly up at him.

He'd told her to go find the police—and she had, but not before coming back to give Izuku a hug.

"You're my hero," she'd told him, staring up seriously.

Then she'd asked for his name so she could remember who'd saved her, something Izuku hadn't expected. Panicking and not sure of what to say, Izuku had told her his name was Deku.

He hadn't been called Deku in years. Izuku missed it.

"Hey, Akatani."

Izuku didn't register the name as his at first. Then Uraraka waved a hand in front of his face.

"Akatani!"

"Oh," Izuku said, "s-sorry. I got a little lost in thought."

"You almost tripped over the sidewalk."

Izuku looked down at his own feet. He hadn't realized. "I did?"

"Yeah. Anyway, I was asking if the two of you wanted to hang out, like we did after the exams! Iida already said it was okay."

"Oh," Izuku said again.

He checked his phone, but there weren't any new messages. From Hisashi or Toshinori.

"Sure," Izuku agreed. "Where are we going?"

"I know just the place," Uraraka promised.

Izuku had already known Uraraka from the exam and their texts, but he got to know Iida, too, as they chatted in a cafe. It was nice to sit and relax with friends, to have an afternoon where Izuku's only obligation was to enjoy himself.

Afterwards, Izuku headed back in the direction of the apartment. Then, halfway there, he veered in a different direction, letting his feet lead him.

Izuku walked, humming quietly to himself. A minute later he was at his destination: home.

Not "home," not the address listed in his records, that big empty apartment that smelled faintly of smoke. But _home,_ the home Izuku had grown up in. The one where he always forgot about the chip in the floorboards and tripped, the one with the dent in the wall where Izuku had run into as a kid, the one where he and Mom used to dance to the radio, waltzing around the living room as they laughed and stepped on each others' toes. That home, that was cozy and warm, that had a little hole where water dripped in on really rainy days.

It didn't matter how old the place was or how tight it got sometimes. It'd just been Izuku and Mom.

He stared up at the familiar apartment building, heart aching. Izuku felt like he'd just walked back into a different life, a dream he'd once had. He could go up there, he thought. Izuku would use the spare key and open the door. Step in, take off his shoes, take in everything to see if it was all just like he remembered.

"I'll come home one day, Mom," Izuku promised, thinking of the lone All Might figurine and wondering if she still had it. "I swear."

Just… not today.


	13. Chapter 13

**Flare Signal** _  
chapter thirteen_

* * *

While Izuku knew the basic layout of the school, it was still easy to get lost in the parts he wasn't as familiar with. Izuku's focus laid in the hero courses, where he'd be spending the most time and where pro hero teachers were concentrated.

The Development Studio had large iron doors that looked a little intimidating. Izuku went inside anyway, peering cautiously into the workshop.

Rows of tables filled the room. On the wall were neatly placed tools. In the front on a screen some sort of jetpack design was spinning in a 360-degree view, parts labelled clearly.

Izuku stepped in.

"He… Hello?"

"Ooh!" a voice cried. "Looking for something?" A blur dashed in front of Izuku, and before he could react, a girl was standing there. She stepped far too close for comfort, circling around him excitedly like a cat examining a new toy.

"Um… hi?"

Izuku took a step back. The girl took a step back.

"What can we do for you? Hatsume, let the boy breathe a little."

The girl, Hatsume, sulked slightly but drew back. She didn't move very far away, studying Izuku with a critical eye.

"Oh, you're just in time… I need someone to test my new baby…"

Izuku inched towards the door.

"Hatsume's just a little excitable," someone said. Power Loader, Izuku assumed, pro hero in charge of the Development Studio. "Really, what can we do for you?"

Izuku rubbed his neck. "I'm looking for some adjustments to my hero costume, if possible? Sorry, I… I know it's last minute…"

Power Loader waved a hand. Izuku couldn't see his face from under his bulldozer-like helmet.

"The hero course isn't the only course at U.A. to produce some great results…"

The girl hopped closer. "Can I, can I?"

Izuku glanced between them and took his costume from his bag. It wasn't much of a costume—more of something Izuku scrapped together. A simple black jumpsuit with a hood he'd wear on missions with Chimera, made of a fireproof material that was lightweight but durable. He'd added dark green paneling down the sides for a more personal touch. But Izuku wasn't much of a fashion designer or a sewer, so he kept the additions minimal.

He also had a utility belt fit with pouches and a sheath for a knife, a set of gloves, and steel-toed combat boots Silver had gotten him for his birthday one year.

"I'm looking for a set of bracers," Izuku said, holding out his arms. "I break my arms sometimes, you know? And I have gloves, but I'd like ones that are a little thicker."

Power Loader disappeared and reappeared with the requested items.

"Not hard to find," he told Izuku, handing them over. The bracers were black and lined with silver, fitting over Izuku's arms nicely. The gloves Power Loader gave him didn't fit quite right, though, so he passed them back.

"Try these!" Hatsume said, shoving a set of gloves at Izuku. Izuku eyed them warily but put them on anyway.

"Hatsume," Power Loader sighed.

They fit nicely. Izuku stretched his fingers out, wondering at the strange pieces at the fingertips. Then they suddenly extended out into sharp points—somewhat like claws, Izuku realized.

"Yeah," Hatsume said, looking at Izuku's face, "kind of boring, right? They're old. I've got a better set of gloves, I've been working on these babies that are like, mini-cannons…"

"These'll work," Izuku reassured her, voice strained. He could use gloves with clawed fingers—they'd be good for climbing, or picking locks, or scratching someone in a fight. He wasn't sure what he'd do with _mini-cannons_.

"Oh! While you're here—"

Hatsume all but shoved Izuku towards a nearby table. She grabbed his arm in a not-so-comfortable way, and then she patted his bicep.

"Hey," Izuku said warningly.

"Oh, yeah, sorry. You've got some muscle," she said, tossing her pink hair over her shoulder. "Here, hold this."

Izuku was handed a small circular black disk that _looked_ fairly innocent. It was heavy, but it fit nicely into his palm.

Then Hatsume, with the help of a little machine, dumped a whole armful at Izuku. It didn't matter how much Izuku had trained; between the sudden imbalance and the sheer unpreparedness, Izuku went down.

"Oh, they work!"

Izuku managed to pull himself off the floor, leaving half of the disks down there.

"What…?"

"Working on some baby prototypes! They're just regular weights, now, but I'm going to attach them—"

"Okay, that's cool, but, um," Izuku put the weights back on the table and inched away, pointing towards the door. "I'm just going to, yeah."

Before Hatsume could do anything else, Izuku rushed out a quick "thank you" to Power Loader and made a break for it. Outside, free from the Development Studio, Izuku felt himself breathe a sigh of relief.

Hatsume was overwhelming. Just a bit. Izuku thought briefly if her enthusiasm about support items was the same as Izuku's about Quirks. She'd seemed nice once Izuku got over her concept (or lack of) personal space. Maybe Izuku could come by again—it would be nice, he thought, to know someone in the Support course… maybe even when there was more time, Izuku could ask for something that would help with One for All…

A distant bell rang.

Izuku froze. He was going to be late for class. Then he clutched his costume and parts close to his chest and made a break for it.

The second day of school felt slower than the first. After Eraserhead appraised their Quirks, they settled into a more normal routine like any other high school. ("Heroes need training," Eraserhead told them, "but they can't be idiots, either.")

The highlight of the day, in Izuku's opinion, was Hero Basic Training.

The entire class chatted excitedly as they prepared for the last class of the day. Izuku found himself energized by the atmosphere in the room.

"I can't wait to wear my hero costume!"

Izuku shrugged. "Mine's okay."

"Forget hero costumes, we're going to have _All Might_ teach us. That's so manly!"

Izuku hid a smile. He wondered at his classmates' reactions if anyone found out he'd trained with All Might for an entire year.

"Speak of the devil…" Eraserhead said quietly.

The door burst open. All Might flew in.

"I AM HERE," he announced. Izuku grinned as All Might looked around the classroom and then caught Izuku's eye.

The class exploded into cheers. Eraserhead, standing off to the side, rolled his eyes. Izuku really had to cover his mouth that time, afraid someone would hear him laugh.

"Ready for Hero Basic Training?"

" _Yeah!"_

"Then get dressed in your hero costumes and meet me in Ground Beta!"

It didn't take long for Izuku to get dressed. He slipped into his jumpsuit and fitted on everything else, electing to keep the hood down for now.

Everyone else looked really, really cool, though. Izuku felt a little plain in comparison, but that was okay.

"I like your costume, Uraraka," Izuku said when he saw her step out. "Oh, Iida, you, too! It's so put together."

"Thank you," Iida said. It really was—plate armor, a large helmet tucked over his head, and a certain sleekness that reminded Izuku of a robot. "It's very similar to my brother's."

The pride in his voice was hard to miss. Izuku took a step back, scrutinizing the costume again and trying to figure out who Iida's brother was; he had to be a pro hero, unless he, too, was a student at U.A. in a different year.

"Your brother?" Uraraka asked.

"Yes!" Izuku thought Iida was smiling. "My brother is— ah, I'll tell you later. Class is starting, we have to be quiet."

Izuku and Uraraka exchanged a curious glance, but followed Iida's lead, turning to face the front where All Might was waiting patiently.

"This is… the Battle Trial!"

"The Battle Trial?" Uraraka murmured. "That sounds kind of fun?"

"Yeah, maybe…"

"Be quiet, you two!"

Behind All Might stretched a city not unlike the one where they'd taken the entrance exams. It was the building right behind him that he focused on, however.

The rules were simple. Two groups of twelve: one group of villains and one group of heroes. Inside the building, the villains would guard a nuclear weapon, and the heroes had to stop them.

Heroes won when they retrieved the weapon or captured the villains. Villains won when they captured the heroes or managed to keep the nuclear weapon from heroes' hands.

Villains were allowed a five-minute head start before heroes could then make their move, but that also meant heroes had five minutes to plan. With only five minutes of actual combat, the fights would have to be quick.

The teams were drawn from lots. Izuku found himself interested in the different pairings, but as his classmates were sorted, he grew more nervous. It was only an exercise, but…

"The final villain team will be… Akatani… and Bakugou! Facing off against the final hero team… Iida and Uraraka!"

Izuku sighed. "I knew it."

Izuku snuck a glance at Kacchan's face. He didn't look happy, but he didn't explode. Probably, Izuku realized, because Eraserhead was giving Kacchan a not-so-subtle warning look.

Iida and Uraraka seemed happy to be paired together. They'd make a formidable team, for sure: smart, with versatile Quirks.

"Hey, um, doesn't Bakugou kind of hate you? A little bit?"

Bakugou and Akatani?

"Ye _ahhhh,"_ Izuku said. "You guys will probably win."

Both Izuku and Kacchan were powerhouses in terms of their Quirks. The problem laid in whether or not they could actually work together, but Izuku was betting the answer was going to be no. Iida and Uraraka would, of course, take advantage of that…

"First teams, prepare! The rest of the class will be going with me to observe the fight."

The students trickled into the viewing room. Izuku looked around curiously at the set of display screens. There were cameras _everywhere_ , covering every inch in the building.

Izuku hesitated before sidling over to Kacchan, steeling himself for an explosion.

"Hey," he said. Kacchan spun around.

" _You,"_ Kacchan growled.

"Ka— Bakugou," Izuku said, knowing he only had a few precious seconds of Kacchan's time before he'd stop listening. "Look, I know you don't like me, but you- you want to win, right?"

"I can fucking win by myself," Kacchan spat, turning away. So much for that plan.

So it was a bit of a desperate gambit when Izuku blurted out the next thing on his mind.

"Hasn't anyone ever told you to stop being the lone wolf?" The words left Izuku's mouth before he could think about it. Kacchan froze. "Doesn't the lone wolf need a pack, too?"

Stupid.

Stupid, stupid.

It was something Izuku used to say, back when they were younger whenever Kacchan tried to push him away. They'd spent years together, always present in each others' lives whether they liked it or not.

Kacchan had a bad habit of leaving people behind—because they weren't good enough for him.

And it was true that Kacchan didn't need help, not really. But it was always nice to have someone there, to not be alone in the dark. Izuku had spent a long time chasing after Kacchan's back and catching his sleeve so Kacchan would turn, and see him. They'd had a rough patch in the middle, but Izuku hadn't given up.

"I know you don't need me," Izuku said quietly when Kacchan didn't move, "but I need you. I'll- I'll even let you kick their asses, all by yourself."

Kacchan huffed, but he didn't snap at Izuku or leave. He was listening.

Then Kacchan grabbed the front of Izuku's shirt.

"Fine," he hissed, eyes meeting Izuku's. Something flashed in Kacchan's eyes—but it wasn't anger. "But you don't say what you said before to me again, do you understand? Whatever this fucking truce or teamwork thing is, it's _temporary,_ got it?"

A smile tugged at the corner of Izuku's mouth. "Yeah."

"And after we fucking win and I kick four-eyes' and floaty's asses, don't think I'm not going to kick yours."

Izuku really did smile then.

"Okay, K- Bakugou."

"Tch," Kacchan scoffed in that familiar way of his before he turned and stalked away.

Staring at Kacchan's back, Izuku suddenly thought he knew what he'd seen in those eyes when he'd called a truce. After Izuku had told him not to be the lone wolf, that he needed a pack, someone by his side. He knew Kacchan. It hadn't been anger. It was _hurt._

"Teams, your five minutes are up!"

Izuku dropped the thought and hurried to stand by his classmates to observe the first teams. Though Izuku had seen everyone use their Quirks the day before, this time it would be in battle. Izuku was interested to see how everyone would display their skills and their smarts.

The first to go were Ojiro and Hagakure as the villains and Todoroki and Shoji as the heroes.

While Izuku had been talking to Kacchan, everyone had already prepared. Hagakure had disappeared—she'd slipped her clothes off, Izuku assumed, trying not to blush hard at the thought. It was a good idea; without her clothes, no one would be able to see Hagakure. Good for surprise attacks and keeping an advantage. Ojiro was standing by the nuclear weapon, tail curled in front of him as he watched warily.

It didn't matter, Izuku realized in a second. On the other end, Shoji used his tentacle-like arms to form eyes. Within a few moments, he'd located the villains on the first floor.

Todoroki motioned for Shoji to step out. The audio crackled as a sheet of ice crept across the entire building, seeping over floors and walls.

It didn't matter how prepared the villain team was. Todoroki froze the entire building over, trapping the two villains in ice. Shoji and Todoroki slipped in, going to the fourth floor and quickly finishing off the villain team.

"His control…"

Izuku's jaw had dropped at some point, and he hadn't shut his mouth since. He closed it, eyes wide.

Todoroki was _far_ more powerful than Izuku had realized. Maybe even more powerful than Kacchan, who had an incredible Quirk. And he'd obviously had years of training, to be able to use his ice so quickly and effectively.

All Might seemed speechless for a moment, but his face was set with soft delight.

"Well done, hero team," he congratulated as the ice began to melt. "Incredible work, young Todoroki."

When the two teams returned to the viewing room, the students immediately crowded around Todoroki to ask questions. Kacchan stood off to one side, arms crossed and looking unimpressed. Izuku had caught a moment of sheer surprise on his face, though.

"Your technique is impeccable," All Might complimented Todoroki, "and you were able to take control quickly. And young Shoji—your Quirk allowed you and your teammate a good advantage in pinpointing the other team's position. Well done."

There wasn't much of a fight to discuss, so the battles moved forward. Izuku was almost vibrating as he watched the other students show off their Quirks. They were all incredibly interesting, and Izuku couldn't help himself when he started muttering, going over everyone's performances.

Yaoyorozu's Quirk was so _cool,_ and so useful; Izuku wanted to single her out after class to ask her about how it worked. He'd never seen anything like it. Her team took the win easily.

By the time it was Izuku's turn, he wasn't sure he'd be able to do anything. Mostly because Izuku's mind was still reeling over the plethora of information he'd just gotten on his classmates; he'd have to write it down somewhere later, so he wouldn't forget.

"Come on, fuckface," Kacchan said as he passed. "Don't make me leave you behind."

They brought the weapon into the building and after a short discussion took it to the top floor.

"Okay, here's the plan," Kacchan said, "I'm going to take them down. They're not going to get past me, but if they do, you can stop them or whatever."

"Wait," Izuku said.

Kacchan bristled.

"I think they know enough of you by now to know you'll go after them," Izuku said, "so why don't we surprise them when you don't?"

Kacchan opened his mouth to argue. Then his eyes narrowed as he seemed to remember something, and he grunted.

"What stupid idea's in that stupid head of yours."

"Well," Izuku started. "Uraraka's probably going to find us by floating herself, so first I think we need to put the weapon somewhere where it won't be easily seen. Then we need to get everything out of this room, because if there's any other objects, she'll use them as weapons."

Izuku thanked his lucky stars when Kacchan actually listened.

"Iida's very fast," Izuku said.

"No _shit,"_ Kacchan replied.

"R-right," Izuku said, "um, but we can probably get him to run right into a trap. If he's going too fast, he won't be able to stop."

"Hmph."

Now that Izuku had sparked something, it was easier to cross the bridge into planning. Before he knew it, time was up.

"Hey, Bakugou."

"What."

Izuku nodded at Kacchan. "I'd tell you good luck, but… you don't need it."

For the first time since they'd met as Akatani and Bakugou—not Kacchan and Deku—Kacchan grinned. A predator's smile, blood and all.

"Damn right I don't."

Despite Izuku's original thoughts, they'd agreed that Kacchan would go off right at the start. He'd try to take care of Uraraka; Izuku knew he'd be able to overpower her. Even with a plan, Izuku figured Kacchan could beat Uraraka in terms of sheer power.

Already, Kacchan was sprinting down the hall, disappearing.

" _FIGHT ME,"_ Izuku heard Kacchan shout in the distance; he had to hold back a laugh. " _FLOATY FACE, I'M COMING FOR YOU."_

Izuku moved quickly, knowing that with Iida's Quirk he didn't have a lot of time. His first action was to move the weapon to a neighboring room—risky, but Izuku was close enough that he'd know if anyone tried to go through it. It was heavy, and Izuku had to drag and push it, but he got it there eventually. Then, back where he'd started, Izuku dragged in a large number of boxes, stacking them on top of each other in front of one of the windows to make it seem like he was hiding something. The nuclear weapon was tall, so Izuku made sure to get enough, stacking enough to get to the ceiling.

Distant explosions were already beginning to pop. They got louder.

Izuku crossed back to stand in front of the boxes he'd set up, glancing intermittently between the doors to the left, where he'd hidden the weapon, and the doors in front of him, where he knew there was access from below and where the heroes would come from.

Then he played the waiting game.

It didn't take long, and it wasn't hard for Izuku to pick out when Iida arrived.

Not only because Izuku could hear the roar of the engines, but also because a room away, he could hear Iida shouting.

"Villain! I am here to apprehend you!"

Izuku prepared himself, standing protectively in front of the boxes when Iida burst in. Then Izuku smiled, the way Silver did after she got in a good hit, the way Hisashi did, smoke curling around his head, the way Shigaraki did when he tasted fear.

"Good of you to join the party," Izuku crooned. He cracked his knuckles in front of him menacingly. Iida narrowed his eyes, but Izuku could tell the display had taken him slightly off-guard.

"Hand over the weapon, villain."

Izuku deliberately glanced over his shoulder at the pile of boxes and then stepped forward casually, crouching slightly. He chose his next words carefully.

"Mm," Izuku said, "You'll have to get past me first."

Light glanced off of Iida's helmet. His voice was firm when he addressed Izuku next.

"I will."

That was all the warning Izuku got before Iida moved.

Iida Tenya was faster than Izuku realized. He became a white blur as he charged across the room, engines roaring.

Izuku barely got out of the way in time. He spun, slightly off-balance, as Iida crashed through the mountain of boxes. Izuku grabbed Iida, who had his back turned, and flipped him over his shoulder.

"Come on, hero," he said, putting himself back between the now scattered boxes and Iida. "I'm not letting you take what I've worked so hard on."

Over the intercom came All Might's voice.

"Uraraka of the hero team has been restrained."

Izuku couldn't see Iida's face, but the other boy _did_ stop for a moment.

"Uraraka… I won't let you down!"

Iida charged again, running for the boxes. Good. He hadn't suspected, yet, that the boxes were anything more than a decoy. By the time he realized, it would be too late.

Glancing to the doors, Izuku spotted just what he needed. Kacchan had restrained Uraraka in cuffs and dragged her into the room with them silently, keeping one hand over her mouth. Her eyes widened when she saw them. She glanced around, looking for the nuclear weapon, and then realized it wasn't in the room before Iida did.

Then Uraraka turned, spotting the next set of doors, and beyond that, the nuclear weapon the heroes had been searching for.

Several things happened at once.

Iida blew Izuku out of the way, toppling the rest of the boxes and using his hands to shove them away. He stared, stunned.

"The weapon… it's not here…?"

Izuku was already creeping up behind him, footsteps silent.

"A trick," Iida gasped, whirling, but it was too late.

Behind them, Kacchan released Uraraka, just like they'd planned. "So what'll it fucking be, hah?" Kacchan asked Uraraka. "Your friend, or the weapon?"

"Iida!"

Through the door to the left, she'd be able to see the nuclear weapon. But now Kacchan was there to guard it, a feral grin on his face as his hands sparked, and, well—

"Sorry about this," Izuku said. "Really."

Before he could regret it, he snapped a foot forward right into Iida's back, shoving him forwards—

—and right out the window.

Iida hollered as he pitched forward, flailing.

Uraraka wasted no time. She jumped after him, slamming her hand on Iida's shoulder to activate her Quirk. Izuku smiled faintly; she'd saved Iida just like she'd saved Izuku.

Izuku walked back over to the other room, retrieving the nuclear weapon.

"Not bad, Bakugou," he said as he passed Kacchan.

Kacchan crossed his arms, but Izuku could tell he was pleased.

"I should've been the one to vault him out the window," he grumbled, but there was a little more respect in his voice now. Like he was finally looking at Izuku—not as a threat, not as a second, but someone he could maybe sort of work with in his own way.

Just what Izuku wanted.

"You're still a loser," Kacchan said, like he thought Izuku thought they were friends now or something. "And I'm still going to beat you. It's you and me now, and I'm going to win."

Izuku grinned. As All Might called their win, Izuku replied.

"I'll hold you to your challenge," he said, "but don't think I'm weak either. I'm going to do my best and beat you, too."

They returned to the viewing room, where the rest of Izuku's classmates were waiting.

"Well done, villain team," All Might praised. Izuku smiled at him.

"Bakugou's so strong!"

"Yeah, that fight with Uraraka… that was crazy!"

"Okay, but did nobody see how easily Akatani just _kicked Iida out of the window?"_

Izuku winced, turning to Iida and bowing. "S-sorry about that, Iida! I really am, it just, well—you know, time, and with Uraraka's Quirk, since I thought you would be too fast for me to just restrain…"

Iida bowed. "It was very clever. Ah… not what I was expecting. Well done, Akatani, you've proven yourself again, but please don't push me out a window again."

Izuku winced again. "Don't worry, I don't have any plans to."

They ran through a critique of the exercise. Uraraka had done well fighting against Bakugou, attempting to use debris to launch at him. Like Izuku had guessed, he'd been able to overpower her.

All Might complimented Izuku and Kacchan's teamwork—something, he admitted but worded politely, he hadn't expected. He did point out how unnecessary the villain team's plans were (Izuku did realize that kicking Iida out of a window and sending Uraraka after was a bit much), but he acknowledged that it'd worked in the end.

"It was super dramatic, though," someone called from the back.

"We were just playing villain," Izuku offered, mouth twisting, "so you know. Had to go out with a bang."

All Might dipped his head. "A daring plan… it is good to take risks, sometimes—risks can get you places staying safe may not."

They finished class, and the students returned to the classroom. Izuku lagged behind, and after checking, All Might did, too.

"You didn't use your Quirk today."

"No," Izuku agreed, "I didn't need to. Do- do you think I… should have?"

All Might shook his head, smiling. "Sometimes it is better to diffuse a situation without a Quirk. Sometimes it is more effective. Sometimes, for example in a fight against Eraserhead, you may not be able to use your Quirk. I think it's good that you are able to plan without it."

Izuku nodded, mulling over the thought.

"And," All Might added, "Recovery Girl will be happy to hear you didn't hurt yourself today. It's good, that you don't always use your Quirk if you'll injure yourself with it."

"She will, won't she," Izuku said. "Maybe I should stop by, just to let her know?"

"I won't be joining you, then," All Might said, "and be mindful not to tease her too much… Well, go on. I'm sure your classmates are waiting for you."

Izuku made to go after his classmates when he was called back.

"One more thing," All Might said. "I truly was impressed by the way you were able to get through to young Bakugou today. That skill, being able to communicate and being able to understand people, is very important."

"Well," Izuku drew the word out. "Well, see, I figure the only thing Bakugou doesn't like more than working with me is losing, so…"

"Still," All Might said, clapping a hand on Izuku's shoulder. "You did well today, villain dramatics aside. Heh, you really do have a good heart, though… no villain would have apologized, I think. I look forward to seeing more of you."

Izuku beamed.


	14. Chapter 14

**Flare Signal** _  
chapter fourteen_

* * *

The next day at school was hectic. As Izuku approached the school, he found a large crowd gathering outside and wondered curiously at it.

"Hey, you, plain-looking kid!"

A microphone was shoved into Izuku's face.

"What's it like being taught by All Might?"

"All Might! All Might!"

"We demand a statement."

"Uhh…" Izuku said, coming up blank. All Might being a teacher wasn't exactly _news,_ but the attention was probably because the school year had just started. Perfect time to get a scoop.

"Akatani!"

"Uraraka," Izuku called, catching his friend in the crowd of reporters.

"Come on, tell us a little something!"

"Is All Might actually here?"

Izuku wanted to melt into the floor. He didn't like reporters. They asked too many questions and had too many cameras.

Then came the peppering sound of explosions.

"Out of my way, fuckers!"

"Aaand there's Kacchan," Izuku muttered under his breath as Kacchan blew his way through the crowd, temporarily scattering people.

"Get out," someone said flatly, raising his voice over the din. Izuku clung to the voice like an anchor—Eraserhead.

"All Might isn't here and won't be here to answer your questions," Eraserhead continued. He stepped through the crowd, one hand pushing past people. Fingers wrapped around Izuku's wrist and pulled him closer; he stumbled forwards as Eraserhead put Izuku behind him and into the U.A. gates.

Somewhere in the crowd, Izuku thought he saw a familiar face. A flash of blue hair. A shiver ran up his spine as the reporters continued to call out questions and demands, and though Izuku looked, he couldn't find the person he'd seen again.

His imagination. It had to have been.

"Who are you?"

"Come _on,"_ someone called. "Show us All Might!"

"All Might may be a pro hero, but he has a job and isn't someone for you to gawk at. You're disrupting our students and staff, and I'm going to ask you all to _leave."_

"Akatani!"

Uraraka had broken through the crowd to stand by Izuku's side. Her face was tinged pink.

"Get to class, you two," Eraserhead told them, without looking back.

Eraserhead let go of Izuku's wrist and leaned forward into one of the reporters' microphones.

Then he said, clear enough for everyone to hear, "Get out."

"Come on," Izuku whispered to Uraraka. She took his hand and pulled him across campus, the two of them fleeing quickly from the swarming reporters.

"It's good we have that security, huh?"

"Y-yeah," Izuku said, forcing out a laugh. "It's that infamous U.A. Barrier."

"I read about it," Uraraka said as they walked to class together. She let go of his hand. "Supposedly it's super high-tech. It'll shut out anyone who isn't a student or staff member, or here and registered in the systems."

"Cool," Izuku said, because it was. His heart hadn't stopped pounding, though. Who had he seen, in the crowd?

"Wonder what we're doing today."

"Yeah…"

It turned out it was time to pick a class president. Which was—

"So… normal?"

"You can choose one however you like," Eraserhead told them. "Just don't be too disruptive."

"We should have a vote," Iida said immediately when it was clear Eraserhead was finished. "If one person comes out with more than one vote, then it's clear they deserve to be class president, if they have the support!"

"Good call, good call."

Many of Izuku's classmates were probably going to pick themselves— it was, of course, a way to stand out. Izuku didn't really _want_ to stand out, nor did he want to help be in charge of a bunch of other teenagers his age, so he put someone he thought would be good at it.

Then the results came out.

"Nope," Izuku said, staring at the board. "No. Nuh-uh. No way, not happening."

"Dude," Kirishima called from across the classroom. "You got the votes, man, get up there."

Izuku got up, but his legs felt like lead as he walked to the front of the classroom.

"No, no, no, absolutely not," Izuku muttered once he was up there. "Why would you guys vote for me, this is the worst—"

"Akatani as class president and Yaoyorozu as vice," Eraserhead said from his corner. "Very well. Now get to work. You still have a reading to do."

Izuku liked Yaoyorozu—she was clearly smart and very adaptable, and she seemed calm, standing in front of the class next to him.

"Congratulations, Akatani," she said quietly, smiling at him. "I look forward to working with you."

Izuku swallowed hard. "You, too."

At lunch, Izuku slammed his tray down hard enough to send a little soup out of his bowl. Uraraka looked up, concerned.

"I can't be class president."

"You'll be great!"

"No, no," Izuku said. "I'm, I'm actually, like, the least qualified to be class president? Why am I class president. I can't."

And then everyone would follow him, would see him, would _trust_ him.

"No," Izuku said again.

"I don't know why you're so opposed to it," Iida said, sighing. "I- I admit I was hoping for the position, but you are very capable, Akatani! In fact, I voted for you. You've shown yourself already as someone with remarkable character, and I'm sure you'll be a great class president."

"Hear, hear," Uraraka chimed in. "I voted for you, too! You're already such a great hero—"

"Guys," Izuku whined, picking at his food. "I really don't… I voted for you, Iida, I thought you'd be perfect for the job."

Iida pushed up his glasses. "I'm flattered," he said, "but you are the better between us!"

"Iida, no," Uraraka said, "you would've—"

Desperate to change the subject, Izuku blurted, "So who's your brother?"

Two sets of eyes flickered to Izuku's face. "Huh?"

Izuku ducked his head, blushing.

"Before the Battle Trial, you were talking about your brother. Pro hero, right? Which one?"

Iida straightened in his seat. The effect of mentioning his brother was immediate, like someone had cast a glow around Iida.

"I'm from the hero Iida family," Iida announced proudly, all signs of disappointment from before gone. "You see, my family has a long history of being involved in heroics, passing down our Quirks. My older brother is the pro hero Ingenium! I— I aspire to be a hero like him. He's the best I know."

"Aww, Iida!"

"That's really cool, Iida," Izuku said, "wow… must be amazing to come from a family like that."

"I'm very proud to be," Iida said, "and I hope I can be just as good, if not better…"

He was cut off by a loud wailing sound.

"...Sirens?" Izuku asked, exchanging a look with his friends. "Why, what's going on?"

The entire cafeteria exploded into chaos. Izuku cried out as he was separated from his friends in the sea of bodies, pressed tight between people.

"Akatani!"

"Iida! Iida!"

"What's going on?"

Swallowed by the panic, Izuku felt his own rise. Panic pricked up his spine and tugged at his insides.

What if it was the League of Villains? What if Shigaraki had decided to come on a whim? What if—

"No, no, no," Izuku murmured, "don't think like that, come on, get yourself together."

It was too late. The ebb and flow of bodies, the panicked yelling, Izuku's own thoughts crowding and crowding; it was too much. He needed air, needed calm, needed somewhere to think.

A figure sailed above their heads.

Izuku was so surprised his thoughts screeched to a halt as Iida slammed into the wall, right above the emergency exit. He froze there for a moment, and so did Izuku, staring up at his friend.

"Everyone!" Iida yelled over the din. The crowd quieted. "It's just the media! There's no need to panic, it's just some reporters!"

People began to calm. The crowd separated, drifting back towards the cafeteria as Iida continued to shout reassurances. Izuku felt his own heart settle as Iida spoke.

"Iida, that was super manly, dude!" Kirishima called after Iida carefully returned to the ground. "Emergency Exit Iida! Emergency Exit Iida!"

A couple of the other students caught onto the chant as they filtered back into the cafeteria, and as Izuku walked, he knew what he had to do.

After lunch, Izuku stood in front of the class to address them.

"I'm stepping down from the role as class president," he said, voice calmer than he felt. "I don't think I'm fit for the role. In my place I'd like to nominate Iida instead—his actions today at lunch, his quick thinking, and his ability to calm and inform the crowd show the qualities I think we need in a leader for Class 1-A. Thank you."

"Emergency Exit! Emergency Exit Iida!"

"Yeah! Emergency Exit Iida for class president!"

"Akatani…" Iida said, eyes shining as Izuku walked back to his seat. Izuku gestured to the front of the class.

"Go on, Iida."

"I…" Iida said, "thank you."

He went to the front of the class and bowed deeply. "I'm grateful and honored to carry this mantle," Iida told them all, "and I hope to serve you well as class president."

Yes, Izuku thought, he'd made the right choice.

Izuku left U.A. that day happier than he'd arrived—until he remembered the incident at lunchtime. Heart in his throat, Izuku crossed campus to the front gates.

A group of teachers, including Principal Nedzu, were already gathered there. Izuku stayed a safe distance behind; he didn't think he was supposed to be here.

The front gate was destroyed. U.A.'s Barrier—like Uraraka had said, super high-tech… completely demolished.

Izuku's stomach twisted. He stumbled back a few steps, trying not to make too much noise.

It wasn't the work of any ordinary reporter, that was for sure. It couldn't be, not by the way the gate had crumpled to ash.

"Shigaraki," Izuku whispered, name on his tongue. He'd felt that same power held against his throat.

It was a show of power. The first card on the table. A test of U.A.'s defenses—maybe, Izuku thought, preparation. The teachers would know that, surely.

But Izuku knew it was also a warning. For _him._

"Remember… we have our own eyes in U.A., so no tricks. Well?"

Izuku lowered his head. "An… an isolated training facility off-campus."

Shigaraki's eyes glittered. "All Might will be there?"

Izuku hesitated; Shigaraki took a threatening step forward, pushing up his sleeve.

"He- he should," Izuku choked out, staring at the floor. He'd lifted the information from Toshinori after he'd mentioned it briefly. "That's what I was told, at least."

"Good," Shigaraki said, glancing briefly at the TV in the corner. "Don't give yourself away just yet… hero."

Izuku was deposited not far from U.A. in a back alley. He stood, legs shaking from underneath him. Already, he saw, the sky was darkening, the day drawing its curtain and letting night step in.

"What have I done?" Izuku whispered, touching his throat gently. "Toshinori…"

He stepped out of the alley, trying to think what he could do. Warn Toshinori? Maybe go to Eraserhead? No, _no—_ Shigaraki and Chimera both had made it clear if Izuku revealed any connection to the villains or any of their plans bad things would happen. At best it would just be Izuku, but at worst… they'd shown him before, and they wouldn't be so kind again.

"Think, think…"

Izuku took comfort in the fact that All Might would be there. Surely whatever plan Shigaraki and his sensei had put together wasn't enough to beat him. Eraserhead was a formidable opponent, too, and if put in danger Izuku knew his classmates would measure up.

But that was the problem— he didn't want them in danger at all.

"Why did I…"

Izuku told himself to stop thinking about it. He couldn't take back the words or the information he'd given away. He couldn't let his cowardice get in the way of making sure things would turn out alright.

Maybe no one would find out, this time.

But who could Izuku _tell—_

Izuku went back to the apartment, quickly going through his things to find what he was looking for. He tossed on a set of clothes, then a jacket with a golden eye stitched on the back. When he was done, he pulled up his hood and the mask to cover his mouth.

Approaching All Might was out of the question. Mostly because Izuku thought if he saw All Might, he would burst into tears, and nothing good would come of it. And Izuku wasn't sure how much All Might knew about Chimera; they'd kept their work with the League of Villains on the down-low, and though Chimera was dangerous, it wasn't being taken as a high-level threat… yet.

Instead Izuku opted for someone else.

He kept to the shadows, occasionally using his Quirk to keep himself somewhat hidden. When Izuku reached the building he wanted, he pulled out the gloves Hatsume had given him, hooking the little claws into the wall. The climb was easy and quick. The building wasn't very tall, either. Izuku perched on the edge of the rooftop, tugging his hood a little lower and then pulling out his mirror to change his appearance just subtly.

Then he waited.

Izuku didn't have to wait for very long. In the distance he spotted a lone figure flying along the rooftops, flitting from one to another like a bird.

Izuku locked his fingers together and began to weave an illusion of fire. Flickering gold and red flames shifted between his fingers, moving beautifully as if they were alive. The sound of a landing and footsteps told Izuku someone was behind him.

"Eraserhead," Izuku said, before the pro hero could speak.

"Do you need help?"

Izuku sighed. Eraserhead approached slowly, crouching so he was at Izuku's level.

"...do you remember me?" Izuku asked, turning.

Eraserhead's eyes flickered to the little he could see of Izuku's face, to the back of his coat, then to the fire burning between Izuku's fingertips.

"I've been looking for you," Eraserhead said after a long moment. His voice sounded rough. "I've been looking for you for a long time."

Izuku hadn't expected that. Now he wasn't quite sure what to say.

Eraserhead reached out with a hand and settled it on Izuku's shoulder, like he wasn't quite sure Izuku was real. Izuku didn't feel it.

"Are you alright," Eraserhead said in a low voice.

Izuku felt a lump form in his throat at the simple question. Eraserhead had… looked for him. Remembered him. Now he was asking if Izuku was _alright—_

"I- I have some information for you," Izuku said instead, heart stumbling in his chest, "that I think is important."

Eraserhead waited.

"The League of Villains," Izuku said, "you're in danger. The day after tomorrow, when your off-campus exercise takes place, they'll attack. Their goal is to defeat All Might, but I don't think they'll… I don't imagine they'll be very, um, kind to anyone who's in their way."

Eraserhead's hand tightened on Izuku's shoulder.

"Be careful," Izuku said, "I'm… sorry I don't know any more beyond that."

"How—" Eraserhead worked his jaw for a moment, thinking. "You… how sure are you, of this?"

It wasn't _how can I trust you_ or _how do you know this._ It was _how sure are you._

"Sure," Izuku answered quietly.

"I don't know how much I'll be able to do," Eraserhead admitted after a minute of thinking. "But… thank you for the warning. If the worst comes to pass tomorrow, at least we'll be a little more prepared than before."

Izuku nodded. "Sorry I can't—help you more."

 _I'm putting you in danger,_ Izuku thought. _I'm putting both of us in danger, being here._

"I have to go."

"Wait," Eraserhead said, "Wait, kid—"

Izuku backed away. His foot hit the edge of the roof, and Izuku stopped. Eraserhead had his hand out, reaching.

" _Wait,"_ Eraserhead said again, a pleading note to his voice. "Let me help you. Please."

"You can help me by being careful on Wednesday," Izuku said, heart hammering in his throat. "I'll— see you around, Eraserhead."

Before Eraserhead could stop him, Izuku dropped off the side of the building. He caught himself easily, hooking his fingers into the wall. By the time he hit the ground, he'd created the illusion of smoke to hide himself.

Izuku ran. He heard the distant sound of Eraserhead going after him.

Checking to make sure Eraserhead was far enough behind, Izuku slipped his jacket off and turned it inside out, a plaid pattern showing instead of the other design. He tied it around his waist, showing the casual white tank top he'd put on underneath. He slipped from alley to alley, all the way, changing his appearance completely.

Slowing to a jog, Izuku took a pair of glasses from his pocket and a set of earbuds he put in.

When Eraserhead broke out into the street, the only person he saw was a young man out for a evening jog, music blasting loudly in his ears. Izuku jogged down the street, putting distance between them until he was sure he'd lost Eraserhead.

"Shit," Izuku said. " _Shit."_

To think for a moment Izuku had wanted to go with Eraserhead. To pull down the mask and hood, to let him see…

"You've done what you can, Izuku," he told himself. "Tomorrow we'll see."

Eraserhead didn't look happy as he stood in front of the class the next morning. He seemed more tired than usual (or at least, that was what Kaminari had loudly whispered, before someone kicked his chair and told him to be quiet).

Izuku hadn't slept well either. He'd had nightmares.

He didn't remember them now, vanished with the first rays of morning when he'd shot up in bed awake for the fourth time earlier. He _did_ remember the sound of static crackling in his ears, and cold fingers at his throat, and dark, dark shadows that stayed, hungry and wanting.

"We'll be going off-campus today," Eraserhead droned.

Izuku clenched his hands under the desk. So they were still going.

"Several of the other teachers will be accompanying us," Eraserhead continued, "on a last-minute notice. It was originally going to be me, but I don't trust you enough to behave yourselves."

Izuku pressed his lips together. A lie. Eraserhead was lying—the extra teachers had to be because of his little tip-off the night before.

It made sense, at least. In the case that the villain attack was a false alarm, Izuku supposed there would be no use in telling the students. Or, he figured, causing unnecessary panic.

There was a pause. Then Eraserhead sighed.

"Alright, you lot. Get ready and get yourselves on the bus."

The class gathered their things. Izuku lagged behind, a heavy feeling in his stomach.

"Hey, Akatani, you alright?" Uraraka asked as they were walking out to the bus.

"Huh?"

"You look a little pale. Are you alright?"

Izuku glanced at Iida, who was up ahead. Their new class president was directing their classmates, not paying attention to Izuku or Uraraka in the back.

"I'm fine," Izuku said, flashing her a tight smile.

Uraraka hummed, looking unconvinced. "If you're sure. Don't be nervous about the exercise! I bet it's going to go great."

"I guess," Izuku said, though that wasn't why he was worried. "H-hey, as long as Iida doesn't stand too close to any windows, huh?"

" _Akatani,"_ Uraraka cried, "don't tease like that or push Iida out any windows!"

"What's this I hear about being pushed out of windows?"

Izuku cringed at the loud voice and turned to see Present Mic climb on the bus after them. He relaxed a moment later—another hero.

The whole class heard Present Mic. Iida turned from where he'd been scolding one of the girls about to attempt a handstand on the seats. He chopped his hand down in a now-familiar motion.

"Akatani! You- you, that was a training exercise, but tossing your fellow classmates out of windows is not proper classroom etiquette! Please set a good example."

The class laughed, recounting the story to each other. Izuku blushed at the attention.

"You'll have to tell me more," Present Mic said, plopping down in one of the seats and leaning forward.

Soon the bus was off. There ended up being three heroes joining Class 1-A: Eraserhead, as their homeroom teacher, Present Mic, and Midnight. Izuku figured they were a good team but wasn't sure how well they'd stand up to Shigaraki.

Down the bus, someone had started teasing Kacchan. Tsuyu had started it, or maybe one of the others, but Izuku laughed along.

Kacchan blew a few explosions, but Izuku knew it was just for show. He yelled and complained loudly about how his public image would be _perfectly fine_ (everyone laughed).

"He's like an angry cat," someone commented.

Kacchan turned in his seat, glaring across the bus. "Who said that? Huh? _Huh? I'll show you—"_

"Bakugou," Eraserhead called, without even turning to see who'd made all the ruckus. "No blowing up the bus."

Next to Izuku, Uraraka giggled.

"He doesn't seem that bad, huh," she whispered to him. "Bakugou, I mean. At first I thought he was kind of… well…"

"An asshole?" Izuku offered, because Kacchan kind of was in the best sense.

"Well… anyway, he's— I don't know."

Izuku smiled as he watched the rest of the class tease Kacchan. Kacchan yelled right back, but he wasn't really upset by it. People were seeing Kacchan the way Izuku did. It was nice.

Izuku thought about it for a moment. He'd left almost four years ago, back when the two of them had been on the verge of middle school.

He'd missed that part of Kacchan's life. A little piece he wouldn't be able to get back, a distance between them that Izuku couldn't just— erase. It wasn't that easy. Most days Izuku could get by not thinking too much about his life before Chimera. Some days slipped through the cracks; some _memories_ slipped through the cracks.

"You're zoning out again, Akatani," Uraraka said, waving a hand in his face. "And you were staring at Bakugou."

"Oh. Sorry."

Uraraka bumped his shoulder. "Don't be sorry! Oh, yeah, what's up with you two, anyway?"

Izuku shrugged. "You know the sludge villain?"

Uraraka thought back. "Yeah, I know the—oh. _Oh._ "

In the distance, the facility appeared, a gleaming dome that was far larger than Izuku anticipated. Suddenly Izuku realized he hadn't seen Toshinori at all that morning—no, that wasn't right. He'd seen All Might on the news.

Glancing briefly at his teachers, Izuku pulled out his phone, texting quickly.

 _ **You 7:54 AM**_ _  
Where are you?_

 _ **You 7:55 AM**_ _  
Are you not coming with us?_

 _ **You 7:55 AM**_ _[Draft]  
You should c_

 _ **You 7:56 AM**_ _  
Time?_

Toshinori didn't respond. Not to the first text, or the second, or the third. And not to the second string of texts Izuku sent as Class 1-A disembarked and shuffled into the facility.

"Akatani!" Iida hissed. "Put your phone up!"

Izuku shoved his phone in his pocket, stomach lined with dread. Eraserhead had already begun explaining the Unforeseen Simulation Joint and rescue exercises, introducing rescue hero Thirteen. As the two passed each other, Eraserhead held up three fingers.

 _Time's up,_ Izuku thought.

He began to pick his way to the front, moving closer to Eraserhead as Thirteen talked about rescue missions. Sweat formed at the back of Izuku's neck.

He wasn't the only one alert. Present Mic and Midnight surrounded the students, but they weren't listening. Instead they scanned the USJ, from the watery pools to the distant fire.

And then Izuku felt it.

If asked, Izuku would be hard pressed to explain. It was something in the air. A pulse, a tingle. A cold that pooled around the ankles. A shimmer in the distance, a bit of glimmering darkness.

He'd learned to catch it, after a few times. The precious moment before the warp, the second right before Izuku would be jerked away by darkness—before Kurogiri.

"Eraserhead?" Izuku asked, voice trembling as he caught Eraserhead's sleeve. "Eraserhead, something's—"

A shadow coalesced in the center of the facility, then whirled open to reveal a group of villains. Izuku shuddered.

"Akatani," Eraserhead started. He turned, and then his eyes went wide, because—

Izuku stepped backwards into nothingness. Kurogiri wrapped around him, and the teleportation made Izuku's head spin like it always did. He was dropped far, far, _far_ from the entrance. He thought he heard someone call his name.

Izuku got to his feet slowly, feeling heavy.

"Hello, Midoriya Izuku," Shigaraki said, one eye blinking slowly past a pale hand. "I think it's time to play."


	15. Chapter 15

**Flare Signal**  
c _hapter fifteen_

* * *

Kurogiri didn't stick around for long. He curled around Izuku warningly, intangible body whirling like a wall of darkness before he disappeared. In the distance, a few screams sounded as Izuku's classmates and teachers were scattered by Kurogiri's Quirk.

"Now," Shigaraki said, stepping close to Izuku, "you and I are going to wait here a while, hmm?"

Izuku took a step back as Shigaraki advanced, not liking the look on the other's face. Not that, of course, Izuku could see much of it.

"Uh," Izuku said, "hey, how about, um, I mean, isn't it kind of suspicious that Kurogiri took only me, and, and not. You know."

Izuku gestured around the USJ to prove his point. "Don't you think it's a little suspicious I'm here?"

Izuku's instincts were telling him to run. Put as much distance between him and Shigaraki as possible; nothing good would come of whatever tricks Shigaraki had up his sleeve. Izuku was sure of it.

"You," Shigaraki started, "you are going to play hostage."

Shigaraki pointed towards the distant steps, where Izuku saw Eraserhead sprinting down to engage with a wave of villains. His heart lurched—Eraserhead was throwing himself head-first into danger. There were more villains than Izuku could count; he hadn't realized the League of Villains had so many among their ranks.

"Your teacher cares for you, huh?"

Heart beating fast in his throat, Izuku responded, "N- no, he doesn't."

Shigaraki scratched his neck.

"Disgusting," he said after a while, "no, I think he cares more for you than you say. He's looking for you."

"So, um," Izuku started, "can we talk about how much I don't agree with this plan? I'm, like, what, fifty percent of it, shouldn't I have more of a say?"

"Quiet," Shigaraki snapped. "You don't have a choice."

Izuku held up his hands in surrender as Shigaraki turned a glare on him. "Okay! Okay, that's super cool, yeah."

"Tell me something, Midoriya," Shigaraki said, "where is All Might?"

It was a question Izuku had been asking himself on the way to the USJ and as he'd stood, a moment before the chaos unfolded. _Where is All Might?_

Three fingers and a knowing look between Eraserhead and Thirteen. The news from this morning. _Where is All Might?_

"Out of time," Izuku murmured to himself.

Shigaraki's eyes flicked to Izuku's face. "What did you say?"

"I- I said I don't know."

Shigaraki paced. "He was supposed to be here. He was _supposed_ to be here, _you said_ he would be here, why isn't he here?"

"Akatani!"

Shigaraki scratched his neck furiously as Eraserhead drew closer. Izuku couldn't make out his face, only the coiling lines of his capture weapon as he tore through enemy after enemy.

"He's really a _pro,_ huh?"

"Turn around," Izuku whispered, "turn around, leave me…"

Eraserhead was _winning,_ though. He didn't slow one bit as he crossed the pavillion, and his opponents were no match for him.

And, Izuku noticed, he'd clipped his hair back like Izuku had told him to. It was a small comfort.

"Do you think All Might will come if he hears enough of you U.A. brats screaming?" Shigaraki materialized at Izuku's side. "Do you think All Might will come when he realizes he's failed?"

 _Yes,_ Izuku bit back. All Might would come running.

Usually it would be a comforting thought. Then, faster than a snake, Shigaraki pressed a hand to Izuku's throat. The fabric peeled and fell away, and Shigaraki lifted a finger before his Quirk could do any real damage.

"Shigaraki—"

Eraserhead reached, slowing when he caught sight of Izuku. He loosed his capture weapon and approached warily.

"Let my student go."

His voice was calm and even. Izuku pressed his lips together, not trusting himself to say anything.

"Hmm," Shigaraki said, fingers tightening. Izuku clawed at Shigaraki's hand as his vision tunneled. "I don't think I will."

His grip loosened. Izuku sucked in air, coughing.

Shigaraki was the kind of dangerous that was _easy._ A touch and Izuku would crumble to dust.

"I'll say it again," Eraserhead said lowly, shifting into a fighting stance. "Let Akatani go."

Izuku shuddered.

"Get out," he coughed.

Eraserhead's capture weapon snapped against the floor. "I won't leave without you."

"Touching," Shigaraki said. "Tell me something, Eraserhead. What would you do to save your precious student?"

Eraserhead didn't answer. Izuku could tell he was weighing the situation, weighing Shigaraki's words and the risk.

"Don't…" Izuku tried weakly.

"Careful," Shigaraki murmured in Izuku's ear. "Don't move, _little dragon._ "

The nickname was enough to make Izuku's limbs lock. Only Sensei called him that. Suddenly, Sensei's name rushed back to him: _All For One._

"How about a demonstration?" Shigaraki asked, raising his voice so it was loud enough for Eraserhead to hear. "You've got a _cool_ Quirk, Eraserhead… but are you stronger than me?"

Shigaraki dug his fingers into Izuku's shoulder. Izuku cried out as his suit dissolved, and then he was screaming.

Shigaraki's Quirk was a million times worse than Izuku's nightmares had made it seem. Izuku had burned himself before, carelessly messing around in the kitchen when Mom hadn't been looking. He'd tripped down half a set of stairs once—everything had turned out okay, save for the light flaring behind his eyelids. He'd been beaten black and blue by Bonestealer, knew the tender spot Bonestealer liked to hit as Izuku's breath left him. He'd shattered his arm again, and again, and again.

Izuku was no stranger to pain, but this _hurt._

The pain didn't stop, but somewhere Izuku recognized Shigaraki's Quirk had stopped spreading. Something warm and wet seeped into the remaining fabric of Izuku's suit. Blood. Izuku's scream withered into a choked whimper.

Shigaraki let go and stepped away. Izuku's legs gave out under him. He reached up with a shaking hand and pressed his fingers to the wound, almost blacking out for a moment. Then Izuku crawled forward towards Eraserhead—to safety.

Eraserhead tossed his capture weapon, but it wasn't directed at Shigaraki. Instead it wrapped around Izuku's torso. Eraserhead snapped his wrist back, sending Izuku skidding on the ground behind him.

"Can you stand?"

Izuku put pressure on his hand as he braced himself. Hot pain flashed through his arm; Izuku gritted his teeth and got up anyway.

"Y-yeah," Izuku managed to say. "Eraserhead—"

Eraserhead kept his gaze on Shigaraki, but he reached out a gentle hand to touch Izuku's uninjured shoulder.

"Run."

"I- Eraserhead—"

 _Coward,_ a poisonous voice whispered in Izuku's head. _Coward, liar, you_ always run away.

Izuku stood his ground. Eraserhead growled in frustration, a low guttural sound.

"This isn't time to be a hero," Eraserhead said, "run, and let me take care of this."

How many times had Izuku heard _that?_

"Would you rather have Akatani be a villain?" Shigaraki mocked. Shigaraki glanced pointedly at Izuku. Then he rolled up his sleeves slightly, exposing pale skin.

"Shut _up._ "

Eraserhead surged forward, capture weapon fluttering like ribbons. But Shigaraki only stepped back calmly, looking to the side at the creature he'd brought with him.

"Nomu."

The Nomu lumbered forward. It cocked its head, reminding Izuku of a hawk about to go in for the kill.

One for All crackled and rose in response to the threat, but it was too late. In the blink of an eye, the Nomu moved from its position behind Shigaraki to inches away from Eraserhead. Izuku watched, almost missing the too-fast movement of the Nomu's fist against Eraserhead's too-slow dodge.

It connected. There was a horrible cracking sound Izuku would never forget as Eraserhead went limp—but the Nomu didn't stop. It shrieked, a horrible grating sound. Then it slammed Eraserhead into the ground so hard the dirt cracked.

Izuku stumbled, hand going to his mouth. A pitiful sound made its way from his mouth and between the gaps of his fingers.

"Stop," Izuku said, voice wavering. "Shigaraki, please, stop—"

Eraserhead groaned. Izuku inched forward but didn't dare move any further when the Nomu lifted its head to affix glittering eyes on his face.

Shigaraki crossed the distance Eraserhead had put between them calmly, like he was going for a stroll.

"Do you like it?"

Izuku couldn't speak. He wheezed out a few strangled breaths in response.

"Sensei created it, of course," Shigaraki said, stepping in so the conversation was private. "Remarkable, isn't it?"

Izuku found his voice. "I wouldn't call it— remarkable."

The Nomu hadn't moved. It kept its fingers locked in Eraserhead's hair; the clip had fallen out, leaving Eraserhead's long hair pooled around his head on the ground. Izuku thought he saw blood.

Kurogiri appeared behind them.

"Pro heroes Present Mic and Thirteen have been incapacitated," he reported, "and it seems you've managed to take down Eraserhead as well. The attack is progressing."

Eraserhead forced his head up at the words. Blood streaked down his face.

"Any sign of All Might?"

Kurogiri's body constricted. "None—but one of the U.A. students managed to escape before I could stop him. He's fetching reinforcements."

Shigaraki cast a curious look in Izuku's direction. "Is he?"

 _Iida,_ Izuku thought desperately. If there was anyone who could make it to campus on time to get help, it would be class representative Iida.

But what would happen in the precious time it'd take for help to arrive? Eraserhead was bleeding in front of Izuku's eyes. Thirteen and Present Mic were down for the count. Midnight, Izuku presumed, was still out there fighting, but how long would she be able to hold out?

And that didn't even cover Izuku's classmates. Were they okay? Were they out there fighting for their lives while Izuku stood shaking and unmoving?

"Kacchan," Izuku bit out, and an image of Kacchan flashed across his mind—his body, broken and bloody, smoke pouring around him.

"What will be our next move?"

Shigaraki hummed. "We'll wait and see who comes."

Kurogiri didn't seem happy. "And if they overpower us?"

Shigaraki inclined his head in the direction of the Nomu, and then beckoned with a hand. The Nomu dropped Eraserhead and stalked in their direction, looming over Izuku threateningly. Izuku shivered. Its fingers were slick with blood.

The short exchange had given Izuku some measure of hope, despite his initial doubts. Help was coming. Toshinori would come; _All Might_ would come. The fact that Kurogiri was worried meant that Izuku's classmates were faring better than the League had originally planned for.

The only thing Class 1-A had to do was hold on.

Izuku eyed the Nomu. It wasn't human, that was for sure. Some twisted, terrible thing that didn't belong in this world. Super strength, for sure. And based on the way it moved, it had super speed. Under that monstrous frame, Izuku knew, there was still a multitude of things he didn't know.

It'd taken out Eraserhead like…

Izuku swallowed back bile. Past the villains he could just barely make out Eraserhead.

Still.

Still. _Hold on._

"Do you like it?" Shigaraki asked again. He tapped a finger on the Nomu's arm. "Like I said, Sensei created it… to kill All Might."

Izuku swallowed.

"Multiple Quirks," Shigaraki said. His eyes flickered in Eraserhead's direction. "Eraserhead's cool, but the Nomu was made to fight far stronger heroes than him. Super speed, super strength… any guesses?"

Izuku shook his head. Shigaraki put his hand on the Nomu's arm again—this time with all five fingers. Izuku watched as the arm crumpled, not understanding.

Something red pulsed at the empty socket of the Nomu's shoulder, but it wasn't blood. It was muscle, flesh; Izuku understood in a flash.

"Regeneration," he said slowly. The Nomu twisted its new wrist experimentally.

"Smart," Shigaraki said. He huffed. "You know… Sensei usually lets me destroy the things I don't like. All of them except for _you._ "

Still.

 _Hold on._

The Nomu didn't have weaknesses, not the way humans did—at least none that Izuku could think of then, half-blinded by pain and fear and regret. Izuku knew he wasn't going to win in a fist-fight.

Izuku would have to find a way out himself.

Izuku bit at the inside of his cheek until he bled. He had to think—no, no, there was no time to think.

He glanced off to the side and caught movement out of the corner of his eye. There in the distance were two figures at the edge of the water; by appearances Izuku guessed they were Tsuyu and Mineta. He waved a hand by his side, hoping they'd seen him.

Tsuyu waved back. She dragged Mineta onshore but stayed there, watching warily.

Izuku didn't know what to do. They could help—or it was possible his classmates would just end up in danger.

Izuku caught Tsuyu's eye. Slowly, deliberately, he flicked his gaze in the direction of the entrance.

 _Run._

He glanced back towards Shigaraki, standing with the Nomu. He was muttering something under his breath, hand having reached back up to scratch his neck. Izuku's fingers curled into a fist.

Blood roared in his ears. Izuku felt One for All begin to build a pressure in his bones; the power was almost alive, tearing through the restraints Izuku had put on it to rage at the situation. He let it go, the sound of it crackling in his ears, and then he moved.

Izuku didn't think about what he was doing. Warmth spread through his body; the wave of power reached its peak but didn't fall. Izuku barely had time to consider One for All as he slipped around his companions to hoist Eraserhead over his shoulder and _run._

He made a few scant meters before his instincts screamed. Izuku dropped, curling his body around Eraserhead as a rippling black hand grasped the air where he'd been. He left Eraserhead on the ground and turned to meet the Nomu head-on. Dust billowed around them. The Nomu blocked the first fist Izuku threw, and the second.

One for All pulsed once then dissipated.

"Shock absorption," Shigaraki called. He cocked his head, curiosity shining in his eyes. "Though… what power that is…"

Izuku retreated when the Nomu made no move to attack again. He planted himself in front of Eraserhead, shaking.

"Don't _touch him,_ " Izuku growled as Shigaraki strode closer. A moment later Izuku realized he'd started crying.

Out of the corner of his eye, Izuku saw Tsuyu dragging Mineta, the two of them creeping closer and closer. They were being careful and slow, but Izuku wanted to scream.

 _All Might…_

"...where are you?" Izuku whispered. No one heard him.

"Eraserhead won't live to see tomorrow," Shigaraki said, "no, _Akatani,_ I'm more concerned about you. You're playing hero well… maybe _too_ well."

Izuku coughed. "Well. Isn't that my, my job?"

The panic Izuku had temporarily staved off was beginning to rise again. One for All—or at least, Izuku's pitiful control of it—wasn't enough. Illusions weren't enough.

The Nomu reached out and wrapped a huge hand around Izuku's midsection. He cried out as thick fingers squeezed. Something cracked.

"All Might's not here," Shigaraki spat. "You…"

Izuku wasn't paying attention. He turned towards where he'd seen Tsuyu and then slowly lifted a hand to tap his mouth, then point to Eraserhead. Shigaraki wouldn't kill Izuku yet, but he had no reservations about any of the other students or teachers.

A distant _boom_ rattled the entire USJ. Izuku couldn't see what was happening, but he didn't need to. Instead he stopped struggling and went limp with relief.

One for All buzzed in his chest as if recognizing its other wielder's presence.

Tsuyu took the distraction, just like Izuku wanted. A long tongue shot out and wrapped around Eraserhead, then pulled him away to safety.

Izuku closed his eyes. The adrenaline was wearing off. His injuries left Izuku useless.

But it was okay, because…

"I am here," All Might called. Izuku cracked his eyes open again, struggling to turn in the Nomu's grip so he could see. All Might didn't sound reassuring—instead he sounded _angry._

Shigaraki laughed. "Finally… level up."

"One of my students contacted me prior to the lesson," All Might began. He hadn't noticed Izuku yet. "And as I was heading here, I ran into another student who explained the entire situation to me."

He cracked his knuckles loudly.

"All Might!" Mineta screeched from a distance.

All Might's gaze shot towards where Tsuyu and Mineta were shouldering Eraserhead, carrying his weight between them in retreat. All Might didn't hesitate. He sped over, lifting the three of them easily and carrying them to the foot of the entrance stairs.

Izuku didn't have the strength to cry, but half-dried tears had already caked on his face. All Might came back towards them but stilled when he saw Izuku clutched in the Nomu's grip.

"Young Akatani…"

"You should…" Izuku wheezed, meeting All Might's eyes, "get everyone out…"

Things would work out. Shigaraki would leave Izuku alive, and All Might was strong enough to evacuate the USJ. Thirteen had held up three fingers, All Might had blood on his face, but he could do it.

"Nomu?"

Izuku's breath left him as he hit the ground. He blacked out for a moment from pain, sound and sight returning slowly.

The next thing he knew, All Might had him in a hold that was impossibly gentle.

"It's alright now," All Might said when he noticed Izuku blink up at him.

"All Might…"

"Don't worry."

"The Nomu," Izuku whispered. He couldn't seem to lift his head. "They- they made it f… for… you… I wasn't- strong, it's…"

"Don't worry," All Might said again. He smiled, and blood stained his teeth. "You did well holding out. I'll take it from here."

He set Izuku down close to where Tsuyu and Mineta were struggling with Eraserhead. Izuku's knees buckled the instant his feet touched the ground, but All Might didn't let him fall.

"I'll end this," All Might promised. And there was that budding rage again, as he took in Izuku's face, his injuries. It faded for a second as All Might pressed a thumb under Izuku's jaw to lift his face towards him—Izuku saw something soft shining through.

Then All Might was gone.

Izuku didn't know what happened much after that. Out of danger, out of Shigaraki's grasp, his body decided it was time to start shutting down. Izuku struggled to stay awake, catching flashes of a fight.

 _All Might… protect…_

He forced his eyes back open but saw only two hulking figures battling each other in the dust.

"Hey, hey, hey, Akatani, stay with us."

Izuku couldn't get his mouth to work. His thoughts flitted; distantly, he recognized the people around him.

 _Kill All Might_ echoed in his head. Shigaraki's voice. Izuku needed to—

"Shit—hey, I need help, he's not responding…"

"Careful…"

"Shoji, can you…?"

Izuku drifted then snapped back. _All Might. All Might. All Might._

"He—"

"Hold him, hold him!"

 _All Might, where was All Might, Izuku needed to help, protect, help._

"No, no, just stay, just, we can't, hold on."

"...wish Yaoyorozu was here, she could make something…"

Izuku blinked. Faces swept past him, their mouths opening and closing as they talked, but the sound wasn't coming out. Izuku blinked again, and he saw Eraserhead being carried. Izuku blinked, and the world faded around him when he saw All Might standing alone.

The Nomu was gone.

Smoke twisted and poured around All Might. Out of time. Out of time.

Shigaraki and All Might were too far for Izuku to hear what they were saying, but a moment later Shigaraki was advancing. All Might stood still. Not moving. He was—

 _I'm the only one who knows._

Izuku's shoulder throbbed. So did his chest. His head was spinning, and he wasn't sure he could see right.

But unnoticed by his classmates, unnoticed by All Might, unnoticed by the slowly-approaching Shigaraki and Kurogiri, Izuku moved.

He curled his legs tight under him and then pushed himself to his feet.

 _Protect,_ Izuku thought, and One for All answered.

His legs protested, One for All too much for them, but Izuku made it in time. No one saw Izuku coming. One moment he'd been on the ground, pain clouding his thoughts; the other, he was there, knocking Shigaraki aside.

They flew through the air. Izuku caught the side of Shigaraki's face, shock evident in his eyes. He reached a spindly hand out, but a sharp sound rang out. A gunshot. Blood splattered on Izuku's cheek as the two of them hit the ground.

A few more shots rang out. Izuku turned his cheek against the ground and saw heroes at the entrance.

Kurogiri used his body to block the rest of the attempts to shoot, then warped him and Shigaraki away.

"...Mikumi?"

Izuku lifted his tired eyes to All Might.

"Hey!" someone called from the distance. Izuku saw a red-haired figure dash in their direction. "All Might! Akatani!"

All Might's eyes widened. Blood dribbled from the corner of his mouth; there was blood on his shirt, too. Izuku hadn't seen.

Izuku lifted a hand weakly and focused. More smoke billowed around them, the best Izuku could do. The footsteps slowed.

"It's alright, young Kirishima," All Might called. He transformed a moment later but continued to call through the smoke. "I've got a handle on this. Please head back to your classmates and the other teachers so we can ensure your safety."

"Oh! Right, got it, sir!"

Toshinori stumbled over to Izuku and knelt carefully down. He tugged Izuku into his thin arms, and Izuku made a half-sound of protest.

"It's okay," Toshinori said quietly. "You can let go now. It's okay. Everyone is safe."

"All… a…"

"Rest," Toshinori said. Someone approached—another pro hero, but Toshinori didn't tear his eyes away from Izuku. "It's okay now."

Izuku believed him.


	16. Chapter 16

**Flare Signal** _  
chapter sixteen_

* * *

"Ah, you're awake."

Izuku blinked at the doctor, trying to make sense of things.

"You were admitted to the hospital," the doctor said, "it's Wednesday afternoon."

Izuku nodded. He looked down at the twisted bedsheets and the body under them - his. Bandages peeked out and disappeared under a standard hospital gown. It ached a little when he breathed.

"You broke two ribs, had some fracturing in your legs, and your shoulder… your shoulder was badly damaged, but with a mix of healing Quirks and light surgery, it's rather intact. The injury was pretty localized. You'll be able to use it to its full extent in a few weeks, but you'll have to be careful for now."

Izuku reached up and touched his shoulder. Bandages. A dull, throbbing pain.

"Thanks," Izuku said quietly.

The doctor smiled kindly at Izuku. He glanced towards the door.

"Well, you should be fine to receive visitors. There's a few people in the hall, if you're up to seeing them?"

Izuku nodded.

"I'll send your father in first."

The doctor left before Izuku had a chance to protest.

"—my son. Where is my _son?_ "

"Sir, please, right this way-"

The door flew open. Hisashi stormed in, followed by a concerned nurse. He looked around, eyes landing on Izuku, and the line of tension in his shoulders eased. Not completely, but…

"Izuku."

Hisashi crossed the room in a few long strides. Izuku struggled to sit up but eventually gave up, slumping back on his pillows.

"Izuku," Hisashi said, softer. He didn't touch Izuku, but he did grip the bedside railing tightly. "You're— alright?"

Izuku blinked. He was— concerned?

"Fine," Izuku said, too tired to properly muster any anger or more confusion.

Hisashi took him in. Izuku wondered if he looked half as bad as he felt, and then decided he did if the look on Hisashi's face was anything to go by.

"They let you get hurt," Hisashi said.

"The heroes?" Izuku asked, "Or the villains?"

Hisashi's face darkened. He didn't answer.

Izuku licked his lips. "When do- when do I get out?"

"Tomorrow," the nurse in the back answered. Hisashi sent her what must've been a withering look; she bowed and ducked out of the room, leaving them to speak alone.

Hisashi reached by his side and procured a cloth bag. He set it on the table by Izuku's bed.

"Fresh set of clothes," Hisashi said gruffly. He looked at Izuku again, and Izuku couldn't tell what the emotions on his face were—concern? Worry? Anger?

"What," Izuku said.

Hisashi gave him that strange look again. He opened his mouth as if to answer and then shut it.

Then, again, "You're alright?"

Izuku swallowed. Hisashi's eyes were dark—intense, but not unkind. Not uncaring.

"...I'm alright," he said, and the word was strange in his mouth when he added, "Father."

Something flashed across Hisashi's face; his eyes widened a fraction. Then he nodded, face setting.

"I have to go," Hisashi said finally, "to have a _talk_ with Shigaraki—"

"Oh," Izuku said faintly. He wondered what Hisashi would say.

"I asked Silver here to watch over you," Hisashi said, though he didn't seem particularly happy, "and some of your… friends are here to see you. Call me if you need me."

"Okay."

"I'll come back tomorrow to sign papers and pick you up."

"Okay."

"Take… I'll see you, Izuku."

"Okay."

Hisashi reached out to brush Izuku's hair back out of his face in what was an almost tender action. He kept his gaze on Izuku for another moment longer before he left.

Izuku touched his hair gingerly, staring at the closed door.

Hisashi…

The door opened again. Izuku tensed, but it was only Silver.

"Idiot," she said, crossing the room to wrap Izuku in her arms. Izuku relaxed into the embrace, pressing his face to her shoulder.

"Of everyone you could've gotten yourself into trouble with!" Silver pulled back, and her tail whipped up to lightly flick his forehead. "You literally— you.. _Gahh._ "

Izuku gestured with his hands, trying to explain himself but only managing to speak gibberish.

Silver flicked him again. "Dumbass. Don't do it again."

Izuku stared at the floor. "I don't think I can avoid it."

"What do you guys say at U.A.? Go beyond?"

"Plus ultra," Izuku finished, groaning. "Don't remind m— where, is, do you know if everyone's okay?"

Silver shoved him back. "Your friends are fine."

"And the heroes?"

Silver shrugged. "I haven't heard much, to be honest. Only thing I know is that the League is _not_ happy with the results."

"Good," Izuku said vehemently. " _Good."_

Silver sighed. Izuku twisted his mouth into a smile.

"Oh, yeah, your friends are here to see you or whatever."

Izuku perked up. "Really?"

"You're like a puppy," Silver said. She nodded towards the door. "You up to see them?"

"Yes. Yes, yes, _yes,_ " Izuku said. He wanted to make sure everyone was okay, he wanted to see them, he wanted to ask someone about Eraserhead, and All Might, and the heroes.

Silver nodded. "I'll come back later. Want some soda?"

Izuku squinted. "Am I allowed to?"

"Do I care?"

Silver grinned at him, and it was nice to see her after what felt like so long.

"I missed you," Izuku said.

"It's not mutual," Silver replied at the door, but her voice was fond. "It's so boring without you to annoy, though."

She ducked out of the room. A moment later, the door slammed in, and Izuku barely had time to wonder how many more visitors he was going to have before someone was yelling in his face.

"—were so worried oh my gosh Akatani, it was so scary please don't do that again, you—"

"What, what?"

"—thought you were going to die and Aizawa-sensei didn't look much better and there was so much blood, and you're really nice and—"

"Wait, wait, wait…"

"—and—"

"Uraraka!" Iida said, bringing his hand down in a familiar chopping motion. "Let Akatani breathe!" Uraraka finally stopped, a little red in the face. She closed her mouth then wrung her hands together.

Izuku was still trying to process everything. He looked up at his friends.

"Hey."

Iida was smiling faintly. He adjusted his glasses. "I'm glad to see you're alright, Akatani."

"Sorry," Uraraka squeaked. "I was just so _worried_."

"I…" Izuku said, faltering. He wasn't really sure how to react. "Um… that means a lot, thanks. I didn't think that anyone would be so worried…?"

"Aw _ww_ , Akatani—"

"Of course we worried about you! You're our friend."

Izuku ducked his head. "Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry."

Uraraka threw her arms around him. Iida patted his shoulder, looking a little awkward but happy. Izuku might've cried a little bit. A tiny, tiny bit.

"You guys…"

"I recorded the class notes for you," Iida said, taking a step back and setting a folder onto the bedside table. "The teachers said they would let you turn in work late due to the… circumstances. And if you need any help, I'd gladly assist you."

Izuku ran a hand over his eyes. "That's really thoughtful, Iida. Thank you."

"We brought you some food, too," Uraraka added. She lifted a plastic bag from her side. "It's a little cold, sorry, but…"

"No, that's, that's great, thank you."

"Do you know when you get out?"

"Oh, uh, tomorrow," Izuku replied. "I'm supposed to take it easy, or something."

Uraraka and Iida exchanged a look.

"What?" Izuku asked.

"Are you actually going to?"

Izuku made a noise. "...Maybe?"

Iida adjusted his glasses and sighed. "Please take care of yourself, Akatani."

"Unlike Aizawa-sensei," Uraraka chirped, and Iida sighed again, louder this time. Izuku's heart missed a beat.

"What… wh… is he okay?"

"I can't believe him!" Uraraka burst, throwing her arms out. "He showed up to class today all covered in bandages! To teach us!"

"So he's… is that a good… a bad thing…?"

"Well, Aizawa-sensei looked like he was still supposed to be in the hospital," Iida said, "though he said there was no time to waste and that he was well enough. Which is good, I suppose."

"Oh." Izuku thought over it for a moment. "Well… what about the others?"

"Oh, they're fine!" Uraraka beamed. "Mic-sensei was even super loud today, which was great, except I think his English and his volume are like, inversely proportional, you know? But everyone's okay!"

Izuku nodded. "That's… yeah, that's, that's good. That's really good."

"I believe our time is up," Iida announced. He checked his phone and nodded. "We were told we only had a limited time to visit, and we still have some work to do for class."

Izuku's heart dropped.

"You're leaving?"

Uraraka looked back at the door to the room. "Well…"

"If you have to go you should go," Izuku said. He smiled weakly at them. "Don't worry about me."

"I feel bad," Uraraka said. Izuku waved his hands.

"No, no, you guys should go," he told them. "It's okay, um, my, uhh… my family friend is here anyway, I don't want you guys to get in trouble or anything."

Uraraka reached out and patted his hand. "We'll see you tomorrow, then, Akatani!"

Izuku tried for another smile. "Yeah."

After Uraraka and Iida left, it was finally quiet. The first time Izuku had a moment alone to himself since waking up. He needed it.

Izuku ran through everything that had happened, slowly revisiting USJ. He found his memories weren't as vivid as he thought they'd be—actually, Izuku didn't remember very much of it at all. Everything had faded into snatches of memories, little flashes of sounds and images that Izuku had to fit together.

He _did_ remember Shigaraki and Kurogiri, and that damn Nomu.

And Eraserhead, and a horrible noise, and All Might. He'd smiled even though there was blood between his teeth, and he'd smiled as he'd carried Izuku to safety, and he'd smiled again after it was all over.

Izuku sat in the half-dark room wondering what he'd gotten himself into.

The rest of the day passed in a blur. Izuku had a handful of other visitors, mostly Silver, but a few of his other classmates as well. He slept. He stared at the wall and the ceiling and thought—of what to say, or what to do.

Izuku was discharged the next day, though not before he had two other visitors: Toshinori and Tsukauchi.

He was finishing tying his shoes when they entered. Izuku's head whipped up.

"Oh- oh," Izuku said, feeling his eyes widen.

Detective Tsukauchi took off his hat. He smiled. "I hope this isn't a bad time?"

Izuku shook his head. "I've got nothing but time, Detective."

"Healing alright?" Toshinori asked. He was in his civilian form, probably not to draw attention; from under his oversized shirt, Izuku thought he spotted bandages wrapped tight around his thin limbs. Toshinori walked to the bed and ruffled Izuku's hair as he looked over him.

Izuku leaned into Toshinori's hand slightly, thinking about Hisashi and how different the touch felt. Then he felt guilty.

"Not too bad," Izuku replied, smiling up at his mentor. "I'm getting discharged today—oh, I guess that's why you came, huh, so you could catch me before I left."

"I do have to ask you a few questions," Detective Tsukauchi said, looking rueful, "though only what you know."

Izuku had expected it, though his stomach clenched. "Yeah, sure. Part of the job."

"Right," Detective Tsukauchi said. He got out a clipboard and a pen.

Izuku peeked over at Toshinori. "You didn't have to come."

"No," Toshinori agreed, "but I wanted to make sure you were okay. I wanted to see you."

"Oh. Huh."

"You gave me quite the scare," Toshinori murmured. He sat on the edge of the bed. Izuku lowered his eyes.

"Sorry."

Toshinori shook his head. "It's not your fault."

Detective Tsukauchi cleared his throat. "Sorry to interrupt…"

"No, no, go ahead."

"I'd like you to run through your perspective of events for me, please. From what I know, at the beginning of the incident, you were warped away into the central pavilion?"

Izuku nodded. "Uh… yeah, right."

He flicked his gaze to Detective Tsukauchi's face.

 _Careful, now._

Izuku went through what had happened, trying to keep his story as plain as possible without getting too close to his own thoughts or some of what Shigaraki had said. Detective Tsukauchi nodded, listening intently the entire time as he took notes. Toshinori looked upset.

"Good, thank you…" Tsukauchi said when Izuku finished.

"Questions?"

"Yes, just a few, if you will."

Izuku nodded, forcing himself to relax. He wasn't exactly the best liar—especially in front of a _lie-detecting detective_ —but he didn't need to be a good liar. He needed to tell the truth. Just the truth.

"Oh," Izuku interrupted, before Detective Tsukauchi could keep going. "Um, I said this earlier, but I don't really remember everything, especially near the end of the fight, so…"

Izuku let Detective Tsukauchi's mind fill in the rest.

"Of course. Answer what you can, please. Shigaraki seemed to target you in particular right at the beginning… do you know why he chose you?"

Izuku's heart rate picked up. He was glad they'd disconnected the heart monitor already, or else it wouldn't have taken long for Izuku's cover to be blown wide open.

 _Just the truth. Tell the truth._

"He… he did say he needed a hostage," Izuku said slowly, "so I guess he chose me."

"Mm. Can you confirm for me Shigaraki's goal for attacking USJ?"

Izuku glanced at Toshinori then away quickly. He couldn't look at Toshinori's face.

"He was hoping to, to, um. Kill All Might." Izuku pressed his lips together to keep himself from saying any more; when Izuku was nervous, he tended to say more than he should have.

"Obviously that didn't work."

Izuku glanced at Toshinori again. "N… no. No."

"Did Shigaraki say anything about the… creature that was with him? The being that All Might fought?"

"The Nomu?"

"Is that its name?" Detective Tsukauchi's brows raised. He quickly wrote it down when Izuku nodded in confirmation.

"They tried to question it," Toshinori explained after a beat, "but it didn't seem to be capable of speech. It did follow orders well enough."

Izuku licked his lips. "He said… he said the Nomu was _created_ for All Might specifically. Enhanced strength, um… speed. And it had—"

Izuku could see it: the Nomu's arm crumbling to dust under Shigaraki's touch, the crack of its hand around Izuku's ribs, its beady eyes and hungry gaze, and the pulse of One for All as Izuku had hit.

"—shock absorption and regeneration Quirks," Izuku finished. "I don't…"

Izuku stopped himself before he could tell a lie. He'd gotten distracted.

Toshinori and Detective Tsukauchi exchanged a weighted look that Izuku didn't understand.

"Created," Detective Tsukauchi repeated.

"Created," Izuku said.

"By Shigaraki?"

"I…" Izuku began, then shut his mouth. _Careful, now._ "I don't—think so."

Toshinori's eyes flashed. "Did Shigaraki say who?"

"Um…" Izuku floundered, "I didn't get a name, no."

Detective Tsukauchi didn't look happy, but he didn't look very suspicious, either. He mumbled something to himself, scribbling away on his clipboard. He wrote a few more things down as Izuku watched.

"Ah, right— and anything else you think might be important?"

Izuku shook his head. "Nothing I haven't told you."

Detective Tsukauchi nodded. "Well, thank you for answering my questions, Akatani. It's very helpful."

"Uh… yeah. Yeah."

"It's good to see you're alright," Detective Tsukauchi continued, "and of course, we'll be looking into this group of villains to make sure something like this doesn't happen again. Ah, here."

Detective Tsukauchi wrote something down on a piece of paper then ripped off the corner, handing Izuku a long strip. Izuku looked at it—a phone number.

"Just in case," Detective Tsukauchi said when izuku gave him a questioning look, "or if you remember something or need any help, you can contact that number. Ah, be considerate, of course—that's my personal cell, so please don't share that with any of your classmates or anyone unnecessarily."

Izuku nodded solemnly. "Th… thank you."

"Well, I think we'd better let you rest," Detective Tsukauchi said. He put on his hat and looked pointedly at Toshinori. "Come on, old man."

Toshinori grumbled as he got up. "Still don't understand why you call me that."

Detective Tsukauchi winked at Izuku.

"I'll see you… tomorrow?" Toshinori asked. Izuku smiled.

"Yeah."

The door opened, and all three of them turned to see who it was. A nurse stepped in, followed by Hisashi. The atmosphere went tense.

"Mikumi," Hisashi said, sharp gaze flitting over Detective Tsukauchi and Toshinori. "Who are your visitors?"

"Um," Izuku said, voice a few octaves higher than normal.

Detective Tsukauchi remained calm though, stepping forward to offer his hand and using his other to reveal a badge.

"I'm Detective Tsukauchi," he introduced smoothly, "and this is my friend Toshinori from U.A. We were simply here to ask Akatani a few questions about the events at USJ."

Hisashi took it in. "...Very well. Are you done?"

"We were just about to leave."

"Hm," Hisashi said, "so were we."

He cut between Detective Tsukauchi and Toshinori, and Izuku caught the rough knock of Hisashi's shoulders to Toshinori's.

"Mikumi?"

"Father," Izuku said, just because the others were watching. He stood woodenly, and Hisashi put a careful but heavy hand at the back of Izuku's neck. They walked to the door together.

Before they left, Hisashi paused. He sent a scathing look over his shoulder.

"Keep my son safe," he said, and Izuku felt the words echo like tolling bells. Then they swept out of the door.

Leaving the hospital was fairly uneventful. Hisashi signed some papers, Izuku was asked a few questions, and they were both told about how Izuku should be careful but that he was alright to return to school as long as he didn't overexert himself. Recovery Girl would keep an eye on him, he had a few painkillers he could take, if there were any complications, please return to the hospital.

Izuku nodded along. He wasn't really listening.

Izuku was finally allowed to return to the school the next day. He left the apartment early; seeing Hisashi made Izuku's head hurt, and when left alone, Izuku had quickly realized he'd spiral into a mess of anxiety about the League of Villains.

When he got to school, Izuku looked around the empty halls and then headed to his classroom. Eraserhead was already there, looking frustrated with papers scattered on the floor.

"Eraserhead?"

He didn't respond, instead scooping up the papers from the floor.

"...Aizawa-sensei?"

"Do you need help?"

Izuku hurried over, putting his schoolbag down and helping Eraserhead pick up the papers from the floor. He glanced at the grades, wincing in sympathy for Kaminari, and didn't look at them again.

"Thanks," Eraserhead said shortly. Izuku handed him the papers. "What are you doing here? Class hasn't started."

Izuku took the moment to examine Eraserhead. He looked okay. A lot better than Izuku remembered— _broken, bloody_ —though no less tired than usual.

"I don't know," Izuku responded. He just hadn't wanted to be alone. "Just… just wanted to be here, I guess."

 _I wanted to see you,_ Izuku didn't say. _I wanted to know that things will be okay._

"What trouble have you gotten yourself into this time?"

Izuku snapped his head up at the question. He blinked, looking for the words. For a moment he was tempted.

Very, very tempted. Then the words died on his tongue.

"It's nothing," Izuku mumbled.

"It's never nothing."

"I'm just…"

What was Izuku going to _do?_

"Eraserhead… there was a question on the entrance exams, I think. I don't remember it exactly, but it was something like, like, what do you do when you have to pick be-between two wrong choices? What would you do?"

Eraserhead looked taken aback at the sudden question.

"This isn't something to talk about at eight in the morning," he said finally.

"I know," Izuku said, shoulders slumping.

"It's easier to ask the question than to answer it," Eraserhead said, "Even as your teacher… I can't tell you what to do, because I'm not sure, either. It's something we'll have to discover for ourselves, when we face it. But—"

Izuku wondered what he was thinking. Did Eraserhead remember him? Not as Akatani, but as Mirage, who kept slipping out of Eraserhead's grasp.

Remember him as he really was? As half-villain, half-hero; as a puzzle and a mystery?

As Izuku?

"You do what you can."

Eraserhead closed the distance between them and brought his hand up. He rapped the side of Izuku's head, knocking away the thoughts swirling in his mind. Izuku gaped up at him.

"You make the choice that's the better of the two, the one that will help the most people or hurt the least people, and then you pick yourself up and keep going. And you do your best to make up for it and fix whatever mistakes you've made, and you hope the people you've left behind will forgive you."

 _Pick yourself up and keep going. Do your best to make up for it, fix your mistakes._

Izuku thought about Toshinori, smoke billowing around his form. He thought about the death warrant he'd signed—for all the people in his life he loved.

 _Forgive me._

He lifted a finger and found a tear at the corner of his eye.

"Thank you, Eraserhead," Izuku said, "I'll… I'll keep that in mind."

Eraserhead studied him. "You know your teachers are pro heroes, right?"

Izuku paused, confused. He picked at his sleeve. "Well—yeah?"

"If you have a problem, you come to us, got it?" Eraserhead pinned him with a look. "Let us make those choices. Though— bother All Might first. Understood, problem child?"

 _It's too late_ , Izuku thought, and his voice shook when he said, "Understood."

"Good," Eraserhead said sharply. He looked like he wanted to say more, but the bell rang, and classmates poured in.

Izuku's classmates cheered when they saw him, piling over each other to welcome him back. It made Izuku smile—they cared more than he'd realized.

Class started. Izuku quickly lost himself to the business of it, finding that with Iida and Uraraka's help, he wasn't as far behind as he'd thought. His shoulder did give him trouble, and Izuku kept losing himself in thought.

Eraserhead sent him home before training that day. He stopped Izuku before the class headed to the training centers.

"Go see Recovery Girl, and then go home."

Izuku opened his mouth to argue. "But—"

"You need more time. I'm surprised you came to school at all," Eraserhead said, "you need to go home, Akatani."

Izuku lowered his eyes. "Yes, Eraserhead."

"I'll see you tomorrow after you've gotten some rest."

"Yes, Eraserhead."

Eraserhead cuffed the back of Izuku's head. "Go."

Izuku skipped seeing Recovery Girl. No doubt she'd scold him again, and Izuku didn't want to see the infirmary for a while. Instead he stepped out into the still-morning air, backpack on his shoulders. There was a figure waiting outside the gates, sitting on a bench opposite the school watching. Izuku stopped.

The figure looked up. A black hood fell slightly, and Izuku saw Shigaraki's face.

"Come with me," Shigaraki said, and Izuku fell into step behind him as they stepped out of eyesight from U.A. and into an alley.

"You're healed?" Kurogiri asked when he appeared a moment later.

"Healing," Izuku corrected. He felt tired. "You can't let a guy rest, huh?"

Shigaraki didn't answer. Kurogiri took them away a moment later. When they arrived at their destination, Izuku saw the TV already on, waiting for him.

" _Little dragon."_

Izuku swallowed. "Sensei."

" _I'd like to apologize, Izuku, for what happened at USJ. The events seemed to have gotten a little… out of hand."_

Sensei continued when Izuku didn't respond. " _Do you have any questions for me, Izuku?"_

"The Nomu," Izuku blurted.

" _Ah… right to the chase. What would you like to know?"_

"You made it."

" _I did."_

"How?"

Silence.

" _Hmm… I'm not sure it's time just yet… no, perhaps it is. Let this be considered a measure of trust between us, hm? I trust you. I hope you can come to trust me."_

Izuku shivered.

" _I have a very unique Quirk, Izuku. I can take and give away Quirks."_

The air left Izuku all at once.

"All for One…" he whispered, unbidden.

All for One. _All for One._ All Quirks… for _one_.

All Quirks—except the one he couldn't take.

The realization was like being thrown into freezing water. Izuku felt every nerve in his body jolt, felt the hairs on his skin raise. Was suddenly aware of the blood rushing under his skin.

All for One, forcibly taken.

One for All, willingly given.

" _I cannot tell you more than this, unfortunately,"_ Sensei said, " _but if you continue to help me, I will help you, my boy. I think you and I are quite similar… you want to change the world. I could give you the power to do it."_

"Why do you want to kill All Might?"

" _...he took everything away from me, little dragon. Everything. My brother, my legacy, my life. Do you think him a hero?"_

"Isn't he?"

" _He's fool enough to fool an entire nation. Be careful, Izuku. That smile means nothing."_

 _Not to me._

Doubt wormed its way into Izuku's heart. He pushed it out, but the words were already there. He couldn't take them back.

"Yes, Sensei."

" _I think your father would be upset if I keep you any longer, but… remember something for me, Izuku."_

"Yes, Sensei," Izuku whispered.

" _You are the lock."_

Izuku blinked. The world seemed to tilt briefly. "I… don't understand."

" _You will."_

Kurogiri was at Izuku's arm. Then they were gone.

If Izuku had left any later, he would've seen the door to the bar swing open. He would've seen a tall figure dressed in gold survey the room with cold grey eyes. He would've seen a face he recognized—but he didn't.

Heels clicked against a dirty wooden floor.

Miss Guidance had always liked the sound heels gave her. Controlled. Steady. An announcement to the world that she was there.

Heels, of course, weren't very practical in a fight, but Miss Guidance wasn't looking for one anyway. Instead she headed to the back of the bar, where the bartender had appeared alone.

"Miss Guidance."

"Kurogiri."

"You're here for…"

Miss Guidance inclined her head. She liked the way the dim bar light glimmered and reflected off of the gold mask covering half of her face; it had no practical use, but it kept attention on her.

The TV in the corner blinked, like it was waking up. Miss Guidance took measured steps toward it. _Click-click. Click-click. Click-click._

" _...Miss Guidance, my dear."_

Miss Guidance smiled at the TV, a quick flash of white teeth though she knew the man behind it wouldn't be able to see.

"All for One," she greeted.

" _It's been a while since we last spoke, my dear,"_ All for One said, " _have you come to visit me at last?"_

"I've been busy."

" _How does Chimera fare?"_

Anger flashed, quick and hot. Miss Guidance forced ice to crackle and cool through her veins; no, she was in control. Emotions meant little.

"I'm displeased."

" _Oh?"_

Miss Guidance pulled a golden coin from her sleeve and spun it idly between her fingers. She thought of Izuku and closed her fist around the coin, cold metal biting into her palm.

"Things aren't going as they should."

" _You were always too impatient. The pieces will come together in time. Have faith."_

She ran a thumb over the face of the coin. "If you insist."

" _Have you been enjoying my little gift?"_

Miss Guidance knew not to give too much away. Enough blood to taste, but not to drink.

"Useful," she said. She spun the coin again. "But _Izuku…_ "

" _Ah, him… he interests me."_

"You can have him. I don't care for him—though Hisashi does, in his own way." Miss Guidance gritted her teeth. "It makes him _weak._ "

" _Perhaps."_

"Have you found who you've been looking for?"

" _Have you?"_

Miss Guidance huffed. "Not yet, even with Izuku's help. But the U.A. Sports Festival is soon… I'll keep an eye out for you, if you hold your end of the deal."

A low chuckle. " _Have I ever lied to you?"_

Miss Guidance smiled. "Plenty of times."

" _Miss Guidance. Find me All Might's successor, and I will remake the world in your image."_

"You have such a way with words, All for One," Miss Guidance said. She looked at the coin in her hand, then tossed it. It spun in the air—once, twice. Then she caught it, pressing it to the back of her palm.

" _Heads or tails?"_

"Heads." She didn't need to look. Instead Miss Guidance slipped the coin back into her sleeve and turned to leave. "But you know the chances always fall in your favor."


	17. Chapter 17

**Flare Signal** _  
chapter seventeen_

* * *

"So!" Uraraka clapped her hands together. "Are you ready for the Sports Festival?"

Izuku spat out his water. "What," he coughed, waving a hand when Iida looked concerned. "What _Sports Festival?"_

Uraraka gave him an _are-you-serious_ kind of look.

"You know," she said, " _The_ Sports Festival."

Izuku stared at the table for a long moment, trying to decide whether or not it was possible to active One for All in a way so his limbs would explode.

"Oh," Izuku said finally. "That Sports Festival."

"You probably missed us talking about it," Iida said, directing his chopsticks at an invisible diagram in the air. "Aizawa-sensei was telling us about it. The faculty are still deciding whether or not to host it, but he said it was likely the festival would continue."

Izuku picked up his lunch tray and stood.

"I'm going to go panic somewhere else," he said, scanning the lunchroom. Izuku eyed his friends. "How come no one told me?"

Uraraka scratched her head. "Well… we all just assumed you already knew. It's always held the same time every year. Are- are you actually leaving… us…?"

"Right," Izuku said, backing away slowly, "cool. Cool! _Cool._ "

Izuku had only been half-joking about going somewhere to panic (the _Sports Festival_ , where Izuku would be exposed to the entire world, oh, _crap_ , how had he forgotten about the _Sports Festival_ ). But he'd also meant to join… ah, there was the table he was looking for.

"Oh, hey, dude," Kirishima said when Izuku set his lunch tray down.

"Mind if I join you for lunch?"

Kirishima grinned, moving over. "Sure!"

"Fuck off."

"Hi, Bakugou," Izuku said cheerily, sitting down.

"What the fuck are you doing here, Akatani."

Izuku tapped his chopsticks lightly against the side of his bowl. "I didn't know you had vision issues, Bakugou."

Kacchan's eyes snapped up. It was only Kirishima's quick movement that kept him from tearing across the table. Izuku grinned.

"Hey, hey, he was only joking," Kaminari piped up from where he'd been watching, arms crossed over his chest and eyes alight with amusement. "That was a good one, Akatani."

"Get out of here."

"I think I'll stay."

Kacchan didn't tell him to get out again, which Izuku counted as a win. It meant Kacchan had gotten past the initial hate phase (hopefully) and had now moved onto grudging toleration.

"Hey, last time you two worked pretty well together, huh?"

"Tch."

"Not bad," Izuku said, pleased.

"Oh, _yeah_ , you guys totally killed Iida!"

"What's this about killing Iida?" Uraraka said, sitting across from Izuku. She smiled. Iida appeared behind her a moment later, looking concerned. Kaminari moved so the two had space.

"What the fuck— I'm going to kill Four Eyes again if he doesn't leave. You, too, Round Face." Bakugou frowned at the newcomers over a half-finished lunch, though Izuku could tell he really wasn't all that upset. Izuku smiled to himself, pumping a fist under the table when he wasn't included on the list.

Then Kacchan's gaze swung towards him. "You, too, Bone Breaker."

"Woah, Bakugou," Kirishima said, "not going to lie, that name sounds pretty manly."

"Yeah," Kaminari snorted, "too bad Akatani doesn't break other people's bones instead of his own. Uh—no offense, man."

"No, that's fair," Izuku said. "I- I guess I have broken some bones, huh? Haha."

"Hey, your Quirk's pretty cool! Minus the breaking your arms part."

"I guess." Izuku propped his chin on his hand. "Though yours is too, Kirishima!"

"You think so? I kinda wish I had a Quirk like yours. Or Bakugou's! Both of you just go _blam_ , and it's like all in your face."

Izuku frowned. "But I'd never break an arm if I had your Quirk." He cocked his head, suddenly curious. " _Can_ you break your arm?"

"Well," Kirishima started, pausing to swallow, "I'm pretty tough when I'm using my Quirk. I can take quite a bit of damage, but eventually it'll wear me down."

"So you'd have to work on endurance right? Like, upping your damage threshold."

Kirishima scratched at his chin, picking off a grain of rice. "I guess so."

Uraraka leaned forward, propping her chin on her hand. "Don't get him started, Kirishima."

Izuku pouted in her direction. He knew she was only teasing.

"Nerd," she said, smiling.

"Dork," he replied.

"Stop flirting," Kacchan said. Izuku sputtered. Uraraka went red. Iida looked thoroughly confused.

"How was that _flirting?"_ Izuku shot across the table after he'd caught his breath. "I bet you don't even know what that's like."

Kacchan growled.

Izuku let up on the teasing. It wasn't long before the crowded group fell into an easy conversation, talking about the homework they'd been assigned and all the latest hero gossip.

"Did you guys see that article with pictures of the top ten heroes when they were in school?"

"Noo, let me see, let me see!"

Izuku raised an eyebrow. "They got pictures of All Might in school?"

Kaminari shook his head. "Actually they couldn't find any, he's missing from the list and apparently declined. But dude, look at Endeavor."

Endeavor looked a lot nicer younger, Izuku thought. Not quite so gruff. He wondered what happened.

"Very interesting," Iida commented. He tilted his head. "I wonder what we will look like in ten years?"

"Nevermind that," Uraraka said, "I want to know what you guys were like as kids!"

She showed them a photo of her younger self surrounded by dozens of floating lights. Young Uraraka was chubbier, and her hair was much longer than it was now. But her wide smile and the bright sparkle in her eyes had stayed the same.

The table gave a collective " _Awww."_

"Your turn!" Uraraka sang, looking around at all of them.

Iida took out his phone. He didn't seem to have very many photos, but he did have one with an older boy who was obviously his brother. They were both grinning happily at the camera, Iida looking a little more relaxed than Izuku was used to. It made Izuku smile.

"I don't have any photos," Izuku said apologetically. "Not on my phone, anyway, and Dad doesn't like photos."

"Boooo."

Izuku shrugged uncomfortably, but relief swept through him when no one pressed the issue. It _was_ true Hisashi didn't like photos, though it wasn't like he'd been around when Izuku was a kid anyway.

He _did_ have one in his school binder, old, folded, with the corner torn. It was from years ago, the one with him and Mom at the beach building a sandcastle together.

Besides, if Kacchan saw a photo of him, well—

"Weird," Kirishima said. He showed them his own photo.

"Woah, Kirishima!"

Kirishima laughed. "Yeah, I looked pretty different, huh?"

"The hell?" Kacchan grunted when he saw it.

"Your _hair,_ " Izuku said. "It's black. And… flat?"

"Boring, right?" Kirishima ran a hand through his hair, showing off the bright red strands. "I wanted to change my hair after I got into U.A."

"Red suits you," Iida complimented. Kirishima beamed. Then he turned to Kacchan.

"What about you, Bakugou?"

Kacchan grumbled and glared. "Fuck no."

" _Please,_ Bakugou? I need to know if your hair was always like that."

Bakugou squinted. "Like what?"

Uraraka and Kaminari seemed to have the same thoughts. "You know… like _that._ "

"What the hell does that even mean?"

Kaminari started pounding the table with his fists, chanting Bakugou's name. Kirishima joined him, and after a moment of hesitation, Izuku did, too.

Iida tried to stop the chanting, citing disruption and that _we must respect our classmates' wishes,_ even if it _was_ Kacchan.

"Bet you were an ugly kid," Kirishima said hotly.

Kacchan glared. "I wasn't."

"Prove it."

The chanting died down. Kacchan growled and then reached into his pocket—but he didn't use his phone, like Izuku expected. He pulled out a dark wallet and then eased a photograph out from its folds.

Kacchan stared at it for a second. A shadow flitted across his face, but then his lip curled and it disappeared. He held it out, frowning.

Kirishima took it gingerly then smiled when he looked at it. Kacchan crossed his arms.

"I take it back," Kirishima said. "You were a cute kid."

"Hmph."

The photo was passed to Uraraka, who squealed. Kacchan rolled his eyes.

"That's adorable, Bakugou! I never thought I'd say that, but there's a first time for everything."

"Yo," Kaminari said, peering over Uraraka's shoulder. He pointed. "Who's that?"

"Must be Bakugou's friend from middle school," Iida said. He pointed to a bottom of the photo. "See here, it says, Pro Heroes Kacchan and… Deku to the Rescue?"

 _Oh,_ Izuku thought. He glanced in Kacchan's direction and found his friend staring at the edge of the table.

He was passed the photo. In it were two people that Izuku recognized. On the right side was Kacchan; on the left Izuku stared at his own face. They were dressed in mock-hero costumes, bright-eyed and mid-shout. The bottom part was Mom's handwriting. Izuku ran a finger over it. Then Izuku gave it back before he could give himself away.

"Wow," Izuku said after a pause.

He hadn't seen a picture of himself in a while—the way he used to look. The dark green mop of hair he'd gotten from Mom, the spotting of freckles Izuku covered with makeup these days, happy light in his eyes. It was almost like Izuku was looking at a whole other person.

Kacchan snatched the photo back and put it away. He scowled when he saw the table looking at him.

"What," he asked.

"Your hair really was like that," Kaminari said.

Uraraka shrugged. "You looked really happy in that photo, Bakugou! You seem a lot more, ah— _serious_ now."

"I can be _happy._ "

"When you're beating us all up in class, sure."

Everyone laughed then groaned at the thought. Kacchan's mouth twitched, a faint smirk appearing.

"How come your friend's not here at U.A.?" Kirishima asked, tone curious. "From the looks of it, you both wanted to be heroes."

Izuku bit down hard on the inside of his cheek.

"He's—" Kacchan said, but he cut himself off.

"I wonder what it must have been like knowing Bakugou as a kid?"

"Loud?"

"Drop it," Kacchan said lowly, a note of warning in his voice.

Izuku kept quiet, not sure where this was going. Kacchan had a short fuse, sure; he was often proud and brash and angry. But most of the time, Izuku knew, his anger was mostly for show, more a spark of annoyance than true anger.

You had to strike deep to get Kacchan _really_ angry, had to hit right where it hurt. Izuku thought pushing Kacchan any further at this point—even unintentionally—was like digging your nails into an old wound, prying up a deep scar from the past. Izuku had never known what Kacchan's reaction to him leaving had been like.

Now he thought he'd gotten a glimpse of it.

Izuku's ears were buzzing. One of his friends said something lightly, but Izuku couldn't stop looking at Kacchan's face. The shift of his teeth as he ground them. The draw of his eyebrows. The simmering anger—and underneath it, Izuku thought, a deep underlying _hurt_ that hadn't healed over right.

"I said _drop it,"_ Kacchan shouted, shooting up so fast that Izuku fell back on the bench. His lunch tray flew forwards, spilling half-finished food over the table.

The table went silent, stunned. The group watched as Kacchan stalked away, anger radiating off of him. He left the cafeteria.

Kirishima looked guilty. "I shouldn't have said that, huh?"

"He's so… unpredictable," Uraraka said uncertainly.

"I should go apologize," Kirishima said, standing up.

Izuku remembered how to move again. He put a hand on Kirishima's arm to stop him.

"I'll go," he said.

"Hey, tell him I'm sorry, too."

"Are you sure?" Kirishima asked. "I mean, no offense, you two…"

Izuku smiled wanly. "It's okay. I think I know how he feels."

Kirishima nodded slowly and sat back down. A trickle of a conversation had started back up.

"Send my apologies, Akatani," Iida called after him. Izuku murmured a response absentmindedly, looking at the doors that had shut after Kacchan.

Out of the cafeteria, Izuku didn't see a sign of Kacchan anywhere. He checked the classroom first, then the training rooms, thinking maybe Kacchan would've gone to let off some steam. He wasn't in either.

Izuku ran through the list of locations in the school, from the most obvious ones to the less common ideas.

"Where would he…" Izuku mumbled. Somewhere out of the way, where he could be alone.

Izuku passed a stairwell and then rounded back. He thought he knew where to go, something tugging in his gut.

His instincts were right. Izuku jogged up the last couple stairs and found the person he was looking for, the bright blue sky swallowing him. Up here on the roof, the only sound was the wind blowing and Izuku's careful footsteps.

Kacchan turned away from the railing, curses on his lips, but stopped when he saw Izuku.

"...what do you want," he bit out after a moment. Izuku could see the surprise in his eyes. "If you're here to—"

"I'm not here to laugh at you," Izuku said quickly. "Or call you weak or something stupid. Uh, just passing on an apology. Also apologizing, because I know you were kinda mad, guess that's an understatement, and I probably should—"

"Shut up."

When Kacchan didn't say anything else, Izuku padded up next to him, leaning over the railing. It was quite high up. A couple students milling in the courtyard during their lunch hour looked like ants.

Izuku opened his mouth to say something and found himself unable to speak.

It was the first time Izuku was alone with Kacchan since the Battle Trial, when they'd been paired together. And—Kacchan hadn't told him to leave, not yet.

"Stop pitying me," Kacchan said. His voice was rough.

Izuku looked Kacchan in the eye. "I'm not."

Kacchan looked away. "Then why the hell are you here?"

He sounded tired—too tired to be angry, just sad.

"My parents divorced when I was young," Izuku said, the lie he'd been taught to tell sitting on his tongue. "Moved with my father and had to say goodbye to everything I ever knew. Um… I don't really know what happened to all the people I left behind, but— yeah."

Oh, this was dangerous. Izuku was walking on the line of truth, and if Kacchan looked too closely he'd see it, but _God_ , this was _Kacchan_. It was still Kacchan, a little older, a little hardened, a little rougher.

"I used to know someone who reminds me of you," Izuku finished. "That's— all I wanted to say, really."

"Why are you telling me this."

"I don't know," Izuku said, and he sat down, pressing his back to the railing. A moment later, Kacchan followed. "I just thought you might want to hear it."

"Why would I care?"

"Not about me," Izuku said, "you don't have to care about me. I don't know what happened to your friend, and you don't have to tell me. I meant I thought you might want to hear that you're not— alone."

"I'm fine by myself."

Izuku thought about Toshinori and said, "It's lonely up top, Bakugou."

Kacchan grunted.

The bell rang in the distance. Izuku dragged his fingers on the concrete, lingering even though he knew it meant they'd both be late to class. Eraserhead wasn't going to be happy.

Kacchan lifted a foot and scuffed at the ground. "Look, Akatani—"

He seemed to run the words through his mind again and scowled at the ground.

"Look," he said again. Kacchan hissed through his teeth. "We're going to be heroes."

He trailed off again.

"Yeah?"

"I'm going to fucking make it," Kacchan said finally, getting the words out. "I'm going to fucking make it, and I'm going to be number one."

"No, you're not, I am," Izuku said without thinking. Kacchan's eyes glinted when their gazes met. "Let's be rivals, Bakugou."

 _I don't want to be alone anymore, I don't want to be alone._

"Look, Akatani—" And Kacchan had this strange look in his eye. _I don't want to be alone._ "You'd better fucking be there."

Izuku thought he understood what Kacchan was trying to say. It was like a silent pact, some sort of mutual understanding between two lonely souls. _Don't leave me alone, and I won't leave you alone, because I_ understand.

Izuku stood up. "We should go."

He dusted off his pants and then held a hand out to Kacchan.

Kacchan eyed Izuku's hand for a second like he was actually considering it. He didn't take it though, standing up by himself.

"You don't tell anyone about this."

"Not a word," Izuku said.

"We're not friends."

"I know."

Kacchan took the photo out again and looked at it. Then he tucked it away safely and left.

Izuku followed.

The photograph was from years and years ago, Izuku thought. Kacchan had kept it pinned to the wall above his desk with a couple other photos and posters—though at some point Kacchan had obviously switched to carrying it around.

Izuku followed Kacchan, staring at his back. He wondered how Kacchan felt. Why did he keep the photo on him? Was it sentimental? A reminder? Did Kacchan look at it fondly, or was it spite?

Kacchan stopped before the two could enter the classroom.

"I'm going to beat you at the Sports Festival," he said.

Izuku smiled slowly. "We'll see."

They slipped into class. Eraserhead glared and reprimanded them for being late. Kacchan said something cutting and crass, but Izuku apologized for the both of them.

"As I was saying, about the Sports Festival…"

Eraserhead pointed to the board, where he'd written a loose outline of the day's events and how the Sports Festival worked for first years. Izuku could feel his classmates' eyes on him and Kacchan. He waved a hand dismissively in their direction.

Eraserhead continued talking. When nobody was looking, most of his classmates' attention on the board, Izuku opened his binder and slipped a photo out. There he was with Mom. He'd nearly forgotten about it since the start of the year.

"Akatani, talk to me after class."

Izuku snapped his binder shut and looked up. Eraserhead was looking at him.

"Yes, sir."

When class was over and his peers had started chatting excitedly about the Sports Festival, Izuku approached the front warily.

"I'm sorry about—"

"I wanted to ask you something on behalf of the U.A. faculty, Akatani."

"Oh."

"Our plans were to continue with the Sports Festival." Eraserhead levelled him with a stare. "The public's opinion of U.A. has shifted since the incident at the Unforeseen Simulation Joint. I didn't have a chance to ask you your opinion on whether or not U.A. should host the Sports Festival this year or not."

Izuku felt bewildered. "Why me?"

"You were the only student severely injured the attack. We value your opinion, and there is some attention on you."

"I don't see why not," Izuku said. "Like you said, the public's opinion changed. This could be a good way to bring some positivity back. And I wanted to participate."

Eraserhead nodded. "So it's settled. That's all—ah, Akatani."

"Yes?"

"Don't be late to class again. And try not to break too many bones at the Sports Festival, understand?"

"It was important," Izuku said, then bowed. "I'll try. You'll see me at the top, I promise."


	18. Chapter 18

**Flare Signal** _  
chapter eighteen_

* * *

With only a week left before the Sports Festival, training was kicked into high gear. Eraserhead had them training their Quirks and bodies alike, pushing them through simulations that tested their limits.

Izuku found himself struggling. Everyday Izuku left U.A. and returned to the apartment to meet Bonestealer. Another round of training until Izuku couldn't anymore.

The air always had a sense of urgency these days. Izuku caught himself looking over his shoulder more, slipping nervously from place to place.

"You're not good enough," Bonestealer snapped when Izuku threw a punch and missed for the hundredth time that week.

"Isn't that," Izuku panted, "my instructor's fault?"

Bonestealer's mouth tightened. They tapped their cane on the ground as Izuku straightened. He held himself loosely as Bonestealer circled him, using their cane to correct his form.

"Try again."

Izuku lunged forward, clocking a fist at Bonestealer's face. Bonestealer caught his wrist.

"What are you doing?"

"Huh?"

Bonestealer let him go, frowning. "Your fighting style. It's different."

Izuku hesitated. "...You taught me."

Bonestealer shook their head. They weren't mad; otherwise that set of white hands would be curled tighter. Instead they just looked confused.

"You're holding yourself back," Bonestealer started, trailing off into thought. "The way you're carrying yourself… you pull your punches right as they're about to hit. You're hesitating. There's no room to hesitate in a fight."

Izuku turned his fist inwards so he could look at it. He hadn't noticed.

"You need to use your entire body."

This time it was Izuku's turn to frown. "I am."

"You're not." Bonestealer demonstrated. "See, you're trying too hard with your fists and overextending, but you're not using the rest of your body. I didn't teach you that, kid."

Izuku chewed on his lip.

"Use your legs."

"What do you mean?"

Bonestealer snapped a leg out and caught Izuku off-guard. He tumbled to the ground and found himself staring at Bonestealer's boots.

"Your legs are stronger than your arms, kid."

Izuku rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling. "Huh."

Bonestealer jabbed the cane into Izuku's shoulder none too gently. "Stop holding yourself back. We're done for the day, kid. Figure it out."

"Figure it out," Izuku mumbled to himself, "figure it out, figure it out."

Alone in his room, Izuku half-munched on a plate of reheated food as he thought about what Bonestealer had told him. In terms of fighting, Izuku was fairly ahead of a number of his classmates, who had spent their entire lives training their Quirks but not their bodies. Izuku was starting the other way around.

One for All was volatile and unpredictable.

 _Bone Breaker,_ Kacchan had called him.

That was it, wasn't it? Every time he threw a punch with One for All, he shattered his arm. Now he pulled his punches when he could, trying to stop the roaring wave, and it meant that habit had trickled into his fighting even without his Quirk.

 _Use your legs. Use your body._

One for All hummed. Izuku called it to the surface and remembered the way the power pulsed through him, too much for his arm to handle.

"Use your _body_ …" Izuku said slowly. He got his notebook and dug out the encoded notes about his Quirk. He'd written down some scribbles here and there, but there was nothing substantial.

For all the time Izuku spent analyzing Quirks, he hadn't bothered to spend much time studying his own.

"Stupid…"

Izuku crossed back in his room to stand in front of the mirror. Maybe he'd been thinking about it all wrong. Maybe he needed to stop throwing punches blindly with One for All, the way he and Toshinori had tried, and start using his body instead.

A memory suddenly struck him. It was fuzzy; Izuku couldn't quite place it. But when All Might had been fighting at USJ, Izuku remembered his body moving by itself, tearing across the plaza to tackle Shigaraki. He hadn't broken any bones then.

Izuku took a deep breath and called up One for All again. His fingers ached briefly, like they were remembering the flare of pain that accompanied his Quirk.

His chest seemed to hum louder, like his Quirk was answering a silent question. Izuku closed his eyes and focused, and this time he spread One for All through his entire body.

When he reopened his eyes, Izuku saw in his reflection sparks of bright green light dancing across his skin.

The air left his lungs. A moment later the sparks disappeared, but the feeling remained: a strange undercurrent running throughout his body. It was terrifying and at once exhilarating.

He held his arms out in front of him and tried again.

There it was—

Izuku watched the light spread across his skin one more time before he turned on his heel, searching for a gym bag. He stuffed an extra set of clothes and a water bottle inside.

When Izuku reached Dagobah Beach, he was pleased to find no one there this late save for a couple of stragglers. They were far enough Izuku figured he didn't have to worry.

This time activating One for All was as easy as drawing a breath. Izuku put a hand to his chest and felt it expand under his fingers. Izuku had always thought the Quirk had felt almost alive, and now he thought it felt— pleased.

Izuku set out on a slow jog to test its limits.

There wasn't a moment when Izuku noticed the change, but suddenly he was flying across the sand. The world bent and blurred around him, and Izuku spread his arms out, laughing.

He had to convince himself to stop. Clouds of sand billowed around him like a grainy fog rolling across the blue sky. Izuku's body crackled with power. It was only a minuscule part of One for All, just five percent, but Izuku thought he could've run forever. Run to the edge where the sky met the earth and then past that.

Forgetting his exhaustion, Izuku tested One for All, seeing how it felt as he moved. With the Quirk no longer concentrated in one part of his body, Izuku found, any impact when he struck was dulled. Even still, the power behind it was strong enough that it didn't make much of a difference.

And, Izuku thought, he hadn't broken any bones.

Izuku kept his discoveries to himself as he went to class the next day, though he did catch his friends looking a little confused when he seemed far more cheerful than he had in a while.

He did tell one person, though. Once the lunch bell rang, Izuku darted out the door. All Might was meandering down the hall, greeting a student from one of the other classes and waving at a few more.

"All Might!"

The name burst from his chest in a loud shout. A couple heads turned. Izuku waved frantically and then caught up with his mentor.

"You seem to be in high spirits today, young Akatani."

"Yeah," Izuku said, heart about to burst from his chest.

They walked a little further to get out of the main crowd. Izuku bounced on his feet. Finally they turned the corner.

The thoughts had built up in Izuku's head. He'd run over what he was going to say: the realization, the visible sparks of power, the feeling of flying across the beach.

Instead Izuku blurted, "Legs!"

All Might coughed. He blinked owlishly. "I… confess I don't quite understand."

Izuku spread his arms out. "That's the answer, All Might. _Legs!_ "

All Might worked his jaw up and down for a second, then said, "I think you're going to need to explain this to me a little more, my boy."

"See," Izuku started, just barely remembering to take a deep breath, "see, see, legs are stronger than arms, someone told me that, and I've been going about using my Quirk all wrong—"

All Might frowned, putting a heavy hand on Izuku's shoulder to stop him.

"You're… going to break your legs instead of your arms?"

Izuku, who had been about to keep going, stopped. He hadn't thought about it quite like that.

"Um, no? I mean, I don't think so. Well, maybe."

"Young Akatani…"

"Huh, you have a point, now that you mention it. I didn't really think about that—"

All Might looked aghast. "I didn't mean to give you the _idea._ "

"Anyway," Izuku said a bit too cheerfully, "I think I've figured it out, what I was doing wrong."

All Might's face split into a wide grin. "Really!"

Izuku beamed up at him, basking in the warmth of All Might's evident pride.

"Keep your eyes on me at the Sports Festival," he said. All Might shook his head, grinning.

"I'll only be watching you."

Izuku blushed, a little embarrassed.

"I suppose you're going to keep this under wraps until the festival?"

Izuku tugged at his blazer. "No one will see it until then."

All Might nodded slowly. He turned something over in his mind and then said, "Then give everything you've got, my boy. This is your chance to announce to the world that you're _here._ "

All Might looked every bit the hero that Izuku had watched with bright eyes since he was four years old. Now he thought All Might was giving him the same look back.

"I will," Izuku promised.

Izuku thought about All Might's words all day and wrote down possible applications of One for All in his notebook, which led to a scolding from Present Mic in English that Izuku only half-understood. Not very many of his classmates seemed to be paying attention, either, too excited about the upcoming Sports Festival to care about English's quite-frankly confusing spelling system.

After class, Izuku slid up next to Iida and Uraraka to walk with them out. He briefly caught Kacchan's gaze and nodded a goodbye.

They didn't get very far out the door, though. There was a sizable crowd of other students. Izuku thought he recognized a few of them from seeing them around, but because they were from different classes, he didn't know any of their names. From the looks of it, they were the other first-year students.

Iida immediately went into class-president mode, trying to clear the crowd because they were blocking the way and causing disruptions. It didn't work; in fact the crowd only seemed to swell. Izuku made a distressed noise, seeing that there were quite a few hungry eyes on him.

"Oi," a familiar voice snapped, "the hell are you guys standing around blocking the hallway for? Get out of the way, losers."

A boy stepped forward—a Gen-Ed student, Izuku thought. He narrowed his eyes at Kacchan.

"Losers?" He snorted, glancing behind him at his friends. "Do you hear this guy calling us losers?"

"What's it to you?"

Kirishima popped out of nowhere. "Woah, Bakugou."

"We just wanted to see the famous Class 1-A for ourselves, that's all," the boy declared hotly.

"Scoping us out because we defeated a group of villains?" Kacchan said, cracking his knuckles and grinning. "I hope you know that means Class 1-A is going to beat your asses at the Sports Festival next week."

"Actually, we're here to declare war. You may think you're strong, but plenty of General Education students have transferred into Heroics after performing well at the Sports Festival… and the reverse is true too, _Bakugou."_

Kacchan snarled but held himself back from throttling the Gen-Ed kid.

"You think you're so _mighty,_ " a boy from 1-B sneered. Monoma, if Izuku remembered his name correctly. "Just because you barely held out against a group of low-level thugs and had heroes come to the rescue… defeated a group of villains, eh?"

"I'm going to smash your face in."

Next to Izuku, Uraraka looked upset at Monoma's words. "I can't believe him," she muttered furiously, glancing in Izuku's directions. "Those were no low-level thugs, and he treats the attack like we wanted it to happen so we could show off or something. You even got seriously injured, _arghh,_ he's so disrespectful!"

"He's not worth the time," Izuku replied, rolling his eyes. He shifted his school bag and unconsciously reached to rub at his previously-injured shoulder.

"You're not the only students striving to be heroes," the first boy said. Monoma was dragged away by another student from Class 1-B. "So I advise you to watch out. You're going to have a fight on your hands."

The crowd dispersed as Eraserhead appeared, glaring out over the mass of students. He crossed his arms over his chest as he watched them go.

"Don't let me down," Eraserhead told them bluntly, "each one of you is here because you have the potential to be a great hero—powerful Quirks and strong motivations. Lose them, and you may lose your place in 1-A."

"That's Aizawa-sensei for you," Uraraka sighed.

"He said we could be great heroes," Izuku said in the same tone.

But that boy from Gen-Ed was right. Class 1-A had the potential to be great heroes, but there were plenty of other students who had the same chances, motivations, and strength. Izuku wasn't alone; he'd have to try far harder and be far better than the others to make his dream come true.

The last few days passed in a blur. Izuku pushed himself as hard as he could. He wasn't going to master One for All in a handful of days, especially with the new technique he'd dubbed Full Cowl. But now that Izuku had unlocked some secret to controlling it, activating One for All and using Full Cowl got easier and easier. With his Quirk, and maybe some smarts, he had a fighting chance at the Sports Festival.

Not everything was going smoothly, though. Every time Izuku saw one of the members of Chimera—and they seemed to constantly be spinning in and out of the apartment now—they seemed unhappy and unsettled. Something was going on behind the scenes, and Izuku knew it wasn't anything good. Hisashi refused to tell him many details, but Izuku finally managed to extract from him that the League of Villains had allied with someone his father didn't approve of.

"A fool," Hisashi finished darkly. "I don't know what Shigaraki's thinking."

Izuku hadn't seen Shigaraki since USJ. Whether that was because Izuku had been busy or because Hisashi looked like he'd murder Shigaraki on sight (much as Izuku didn't like his father, he wouldn't be sorry), Izuku didn't know. It didn't matter. The less Izuku saw of him, the better off he would be.

He had his suspicions, though. Word had been flying around of a "hero-killer" stalking the streets at night. The title sent a shiver down Izuku's spine. He didn't know if Shigaraki had really allied with this hero-killer, whoever he was, but Izuku didn't like it at all.

There wasn't much time to dwell on dying heroes, though—not when it was time for the next generation of heroes to step into the light.

The morning of the Sports Festival dawned bright and early. Class 1-A stood in nervous groups, chattering to each other wondering what the day's events would look like.

"Maybe they'll pit us against each other," Uraraka suggested.

"I should hope not," Iida said, "I would much rather work together than fight one of you."

"Why," Izuku said, "because you're scared we'd utterly destroy you?"

Ashido, who'd been standing close enough to hear their conversation, shrieked. Uraraka was laughed at the miffed look on Iida's face.

"Ah- Akatani," Iida sputtered.

Izuku patted his shoulder and stepped past him so he could go find Kacchan.

"Don't worry, I know you'll give it your best," he said.

Of all of them, Kacchan looked the least nervous. In fact, to anyone who didn't know him, he didn't look nervous at all. Izuku knew he was, though—he was sliding a finger over his thumbnail in a gesture that might've looked nonchalant, and he was slowly but surely grinding a hole into the dirt with the heel of his foot.

"Did you write a speech?"

Kacchan huffed. "Think you could do better, Bone Breaker?"

"Your speech is probably about how Class 1-A is going to kick everyone's asses, right?"

Kacchan rolled his eyes. "As if I'd include you."

"So how you're going to kick everyone's asses."

Kacchan's huff was more than answer. Izuku smiled to himself. Some of the other students wouldn't be pleased, but at least Kacchan was doing what he did best—making a statement. Maybe a couple heroes watching would admire his tenacity and confidence.

"We're rivals, remember," Izuku said, though he wavered slightly, unsure. "So don't underestimate me or any of the others."

"Sure," Kacchan drawled.

He _did_ take Izuku seriously, though. Kacchan was confident but not stupid. Like Izuku, he knew the Sports Festival was going to prove a lot of things, and one of them was whether or not Class 1-A was really the best. Izuku hoped so.

"Akatani."

Izuku turned, surprised, to find Todoroki speaking at him. They weren't friends or anything—actually, Todoroki wasn't particularly close with any of his classmates.

Todoroki inclined his head to the side. Izuku glanced at Kacchan, who watched them with suspicious eyes, and then followed Todoroki.

"I just wanted to say," Todoroki said, once they were mostly out of earshot, "that I'm stronger than you."

Izuku balked. He hadn't expected that. It was true that Todoroki was one of the strongest students in their class, and his control over his Quirk made Izuku look like a baby. But Izuku was getting stronger, and better.

"Todoroki…"

"I also wanted to tell you that your connection with All Might is not as subtle as you may think," Todoroki forged forward. Izuku's heart thudded in his chest when Todoroki's eyes narrowed in determination. "And that is why I'm going to beat you."

Izuku went still.

"It's true you're stronger than all the students here, and… stronger than me," he said, glossing over what Todoroki said about All Might, "but Todoroki… everyone here wants to be a hero and everyone here is ready to give this their all. So am I. I'm going to be putting up a fight. Don't expect to win."

Todoroki met his eyes. He looked faintly surprised—and maybe intrigued. Izuku found his gaze drawn his classmate's face: closer now, the cold in his different-colored eyes, the splotchy scar on his skin, his mouth set in a hard line. Then Todoroki nodded curtly and walked away.

Uraraka approached again. "Did he… what did he want?"

Izuku shrugged. "He was challenging me."

Uraraka's brow pinched. "Challenging you…"

Izuku nodded but tried to smile cheerfully at her. "I can take him. So could you, actually!"

"He's strong."

Izuku reached out and squeezed Uraraka's shoulder. "So are you."

Uraraka's eyes flashed. "Watch me today," she said as Iida joined them, "I'm going to win."

"See you in the winner's circle," Izuku said, and they high-fived.

"Bakugou is about to give the opening speech, you two," Iida said. "We have to prepare."

Class 1-A stepped out first to a roaring stadium. Izuku's mouth dropped slightly as he scanned the crowds. Civilians and heroes alike had their eyes locked on the stage. Numerous cameras and equipment had been set up to broadcast the Sports Festival to the whole of Japan.

The whole of Japan. Izuku's mouth went dry. Hisashi would be watching. Shigaraki might, frothing at the mouth and scratching at his neck. And maybe so would All for One.

Kacchan headed to the podium when Midnight gestured him over.

"Uh oh," Uraraka said, watching Kacchan.

Kacchan leaned into the microphone. "I'm going to place first," he said. The stadium swelled with cheers and shouts—some positive, some negative. Kacchan wasn't done, though. He pointed at the other first-years in 1-B and General Education. "Class 1-A is going to kick your butts."

It wasn't the _best_ speech. In fact, it wasn't much of a speech at all. But Kacchan had remembered to include his classmates, and not only that, but he'd publicly declared that he _believed_ in them.

Kirishima whooped, raising his hands. "Yeah we are!"

"That was almost nice," Uraraka commented. Izuku laughed.

"I don't know what they expected," he said, looking at the other students. "That's just how K… Bakugou is."

Kacchan strolled back to Class 1-A looking pleased. Up next to the podium, Midnight looked like she'd been taken off-guard by Kacchan's declaration.

"Well…," she said, looking hesitantly back towards her fellow teachers, "with that— encouraging speech, I am happy and proud to announce that the Sports Festival has officially _begun!_ "


	19. Chapter 19

**Flare Signal** _  
chapter nineteen_

* * *

"An obstacle race," Uraraka said, laughing nervously. She glanced at her friends. "Should be easy, right?"

"Uh huh," Izuku replied, keeping his eyes trained on the road ahead.

He knew if he used Full Cowl, he could get a good head start on the others. Then the only thing Izuku had to worry about was keeping the lead.

Midnight's voice boomed around them as she finished talking about the obstacle race. Four kilometers of tough terrain the teachers had constructed for them—full of surprises, Izuku was sure.

"Only the first event," Izuku muttered to himself. It was too early to show off his Quirk, especially since they had no idea what the following two events were going to be. If he pulled too close to the front, he'd have a target painted on his back for the rest of the festival.

Izuku's neck prickled. He glanced around the stadium and suddenly felt like he could feel all of the eyes resting on him. All Might was in the stands, a bit too far away for Izuku to see his face, but—

He ducked his head.

No, he decided. He'd save One for All for when he really needed it.

Izuku glanced sidelongs down at his classmates and saw a few of them eyeing Todoroki. He nodded to himself. Todoroki would make the first move.

A horn blared.

" _BEGIN!"_

Izuku darted forward and then sprang into the air. A blast of cold air whipped his hair back as a sheet of ice swept across the ground.

A chorus of loud shouts sounded. Izuku landed on the ice and slid forward. When he looked around, he found the rest of Class 1-A pulling ahead—but not any of the other students, who'd unfortunately been subject to Todoroki's Quirk.

Izuku allowed himself a small smile but felt it fade as he heard the loud creaking of metal.

"AAAGH," Kaminari shouted in the distance. Electricity crackled. "Why does it always have to be _robots?_ "

"Weren't the entrance exams enough?" Izuku asked quietly. He reached for the knives at his side—a U.A. issued set they'd allowed him to bring.

Todoroki wasn't done, though.

A wave of ice destroyed an entire _row_ of bots, and the last glimpse of Todoroki Izuku caught was the flutter of his distinct hair. Then he was gone.

"Thanks for the gift," he muttered.

Izuku stared at the mountainous pile of bots Todoroki had left them, then at the remaining bots. He thought fast and sheathed his knives, darting to grab a sheet of jagged metal instead.

A laser bored into the ground next to him. Izuku gritted his teeth as a bot approached, picking up speed.

 _No time to be scared,_ Izuku thought.

The bot swung towards him. A flash of gleaming blue metal and glowing red.

Izuku stood his ground. He gripped the piece of metal tightly and waited for the perfect moment—

Something connected. Metal screeched. In a second it was over, and Izuku stood over a decapitated bot, triumphant.

All around him, U.A. students were waging war against various bots. Some were pulling ahead. Izuku narrowed his eyes and forged forward.

When another bot approached, Izuku didn't bother this time. He ran forward heads-on at the bot with the sheet of metal.

"Thanks, Todoroki," Izuku said again, grinning, as he tossed the sheet of metal down and threw himself on top of it. He shot through the bot's legs faster than it could react, and was up and running forwards before it could go after him.

Up ahead, Izuku spotted students clambering over heaps of metal. He joined them, easily scaling over the obstacles.

Dropping down on the other side, Izuku glanced at the sheet of metal he was still carrying. It hadn't let him down yet, Izuku thought. He'd keep it.

 _Pay attention,_ Bonestealer said in his mind. Izuku did, and found the next obstacle facing him was a large divide where the earth had split. Ropes had been strung from one side to the other, presumably for them to walk across, but that was the only help they were given.

He made it to the edge of the pit and peered down. Just darkness. No sign of ground if anyone fell.

"Okay, okay," Izuku said. He reached into his belt and found a length of cord he could use to strap the metal piece to his back, leaving his hands free. "No big deal. Just… don't fall. Easy."

"Easier said than done," someone grumbled from next to him. Izuku chuckled nervously.

Izuku looked around. He spotted a few of his classmates, but Kacchan was out of sight. Izuku huffed. He was lucky—he'd probably just blasted his way right past the canyon.

He thought of the rooftop with Kacchan and gritted his teeth. It wouldn't do to not make good on his promise.

Izuku tested one of the ropes and sucked in a breath. Then he took the first step across one, keeping his weight centered.

"Akatani!"

Izuku cried out. There was nothing underneath him. Izuku fell off the rope, only barely managing to grab it.

Hanging there by one hand, Izuku slowly swiveled backwards.

"Are you trying to sabotage me, Hatsume?"

He swung, then grabbed onto his rope with both hands to pull himself back up. The rope bounced unsteadily; Izuku clung to it, praying he wouldn't fall again.

Izuku glared at the girl from the Support department who'd surprised him. She was standing cheerfully on solid ground, hands on her hips as she watched him struggle.

"If I wanted to sabotage you, Akatani, you would've already lost the Sports Festival!"

The rope wobbled dangerously as Izuku got his feet underneath him. He curled in on himself, keeping his center steady, and slowly regained his balance.

"You going to join me?"

"Heh," Hatsume said. She laughed. She had that crazy look in her eye that Izuku recognized as the same look like when she was working. "Don't need to."

"Lucky you," Izuku called over his shoulder. He carefully inched his way further on the tightrope. "If I could jump this canyon, then I would."

"See," Hatsume yelled after him, "Support course students can compete too! And the U.A. Sports Festival is _just_ the perfect place to show off my babies. Too bad _you_ can't jump this canyon."

Then she— she _soared_ past him.

"Great," Izuku groaned. "I don't know why I even try."

It took him a while—and a few terrifyingly close calls—to get across the canyon. Luckily, Izuku hadn't been the only person struggling. Though some lucky students could go airborne (wow, Kacchan and Uraraka were kicking his _butt_ ), most everyone's Quirks weren't very suitable for the task. Izuku spared only a second looking at his opposition before he went on.

Izuku let loose a tiny spark of One for All, bursting forwards—

A sound like thunder cracked through his ears. Izuku threw his arm over his face as he was thrown violently backwards. White light flared.

When Izuku's vision had cleared and he could hear past the ringing sound, he realized what had happened. A landmine explosion.

One of many potential ones, it seemed, judging by the field of landmines.

Izuku rolled over and clambered slowly to his feet. The back of his arm hurt, he realized—the metal piece he'd been carrying had cut into his skin when the explosion had gone off. Other than that, though, there didn't seem to be any lasting damage.

He finally spotted Todoroki again. He was _way_ ahead of Izuku, but Izuku realized he had slowed down. He had to pick his way through the landmines carefully. This meant Kacchan was catching up.

Izuku sighed, eyeing the ground carefully this time as he took his first few steps. Fine. It was fine. He'd still made it past quite a few of his fellow classmates, and overall he was ahead.

"Third place will have to do," Izuku said. "Maybe fourth. Or fifth!"

Izuku hopped over another mound and glanced up at Kacchan and Todoroki, then further at the blinding audience, a mass of cheering people.

Kacchan had caught up to Todoroki easily. Now, instead of pulling ahead, he'd instead changed directions and was _attacking him._

Izuku wanted to facepalm. A couple more explosions and he'd be well past the finish line. And he'd _stopped_ to _fight Todoroki?_

"Idiot," Izuku grumbled. Maybe he could catch up now.

He wasn't letting anyone _down_ , was he? It wasn't like Izuku could use One for All or his illusions to do anything. Unlike Kacchan, who seemed to be having a blast, Izuku's Quirks weren't going to get him across a field of landmines.

Kacchan let loose a particularly large explosion. Izuku squinted at the bright light. Metal dug into his back.

 _Explosions,_ Izuku thought.

He stopped trying to get through the landmines and worked quickly, using his knife to carefully begin prying a few from the ground. Once he'd done that, he stacked them and slung the metal plate off his back.

"This is really dumb," Izuku said aloud, as if he could stop himself from doing it. "This is really, really dumb."

He did it anyway.

In seconds he'd gone airborne, propelled by a powerful blast. He went weightless for a moment. The world blurred around him. Light poured in on the edges of his vision, and Izuku held on tightly as the air tore past him.

" _INCOMING!"_

Kacchan and Todoroki flew apart from each other as Izuku shot right between them. Kacchan swore and went after him. Izuku cackled with glee.

A _boom_ echoed in his ears. Izuku pressed his body close to the metal and saw Kacchan to his right, catching up. His teeth were bared. His gaze flitted towards Izuku—a moment later he followed, slamming into Izuku bodily.

They tumbled through the air. Izuku shouted, scrabbling for a purchase and grabbing Kacchan's arm. Kacchan growled, the sound torn away by wind. Izuku fell.

He curled tight and rolled when he hit the ground, dirt biting into his back. Pain shuddered up his shoulder, but Izuku started running for the finish line—so close, now.

The impact had made Kacchan falter, too. Izuku stumbled once as he ran, and in the air behind him Kacchan was catching up. Their eyes met. Izuku saw the realization clicking into place. He was going to win.

Just beyond the finish line, Izuku caught sight of a crew of cameramen. One of the cameras had turned on him and Kacchan's desperate bid for first place, and Izuku wavered.

Slowed enough for Kacchan to pass him and that final line.

Izuku skidded to a stop a half-second later, panting. Kacchan glared at him, striding over like he was about to say something, but he was interrupted by Midnight declaring him first. Izuku second. A minute later, Todoroki third.

The rest of their opponents trickled past the finish line. Izuku cheered as Yaoyorozu crossed. A couple of his classmates shot by, whooping and laughing. When Izuku spotted his friends, he raised his arms in a victory symbol and beamed at them.

After the last few students crossed the line and finished the race, they were all ushered out of the stadium so the teachers could set up the next event. Class 1-A congregated, grouping together and chatting excitedly.

"Oi," Kacchan said. Izuku followed him to the side, out of earshot.

Kacchan jabbed a finger in his chest. "You pulled back on purpose."

"I didn't," Izuku said weakly.

"You _did._ "

Izuku took in a shallow breath. He looked Kacchan in the eye and steeled himself.

"I didn't."

Kacchan held his gaze for a moment. Izuku knew if he looked away Kacchan would know, so he held still.

"Tch," Kacchan sneered, then stepped back. He was frowning.

"What," Izuku said.

Kacchan looked around like he was making sure no one else was there. Then he punched Izuku's shoulder.

"Keep up," he said. Then Kacchan turned and strode back outside towards the stands.

They had a seven-minute break to themselves, something Izuku was immensely grateful for. Iida was passing out water bottles he'd procured out of nowhere. Izuku took one, smiling.

"Great job, Akatani!" Iida congratulated. Izuku blushed. "Second place in the first event. Really admirable."

"Ah...," Izuku said, not knowing how to respond, "thanks, Iida. You, too."

"That was harder than I thought it would be," Uraraka chimed in. She unscrewed the cap of her water bottle and took a swig. "Also made me realize I need to train my Quirk and my body more. That canyon _killed_ me."

Iida hummed. "You didn't float across?"

Uraraka shook her head, brown hair ruffled. "I wanted to save my Quirk. Besides, that was a long stretch."

Izuku sighed. "Yeah."

"I agree," Iida said, "and our Quirks weren't very suitable at all. Do you think that was intentional?"

"Probably," Izuku replied, "I mean, it wouldn't be much of a race if we could all just—well, blast our way to the finish line, huh?"

Uraraka squinted at him. "You almost beat Bakugou, though."

Izuku dipped his head. "Almost is the key word there."

He held out his water bottle. Uraraka tapped hers against his like they were clinking wine glasses together, and then they both drank.

"Hey," Uraraka said, cocking her head, "did either of your parents come?"

"No," Izuku said a bit too quickly. "Er— well, what I mean to say is, um, he wouldn't, no, um. No."

Iida and Uraraka shot him strange looks. Izuku gave them an uneasy smile back.

"My brother couldn't take off work to come watch," Iida responded. He looked a bit put-out at the thought, but not terribly disappointed. Izuku thought it must have been expected. "But he did say he would try to get off-duty a little earlier and take the train back so we could have dinner together."

"Oh, that's nice!"

Iida smiled.

"Take the train?" Izuku asked. "Where is he now?"

"Oh, Hosu," Iida said.

"Hosu," Izuku said thoughtfully. He couldn't quite place why a chill had run up his spine—he'd heard it somewhere…

"Huh," Izuku murmured to himself. He shook his head and let it go. "What about you, Uraraka?"

"Hmm? Me? Oh, no, my parents are at home watching on TV." She grinned. "They said they'd be cheering me on."

Izuku smiled.

"Endeavor is here," Iida noted. Izuku nodded. "But I'm not sure about anyone else."

"I think Kirishima mentioned his parents coming." Uraraka brightened. "Oh, maybe we can meet some of our classmates' parents! I've always wondered what they were like."

"Hey, let's go out on the stands," Izuku suggested, "maybe we'll be able to see what's being set up for the next event."

"Midnight will probably have something to announce too," Iida added. The three of them stepped out. Kacchan was already there, as well as a couple others, scanning the stadium. Present Mic was doing a running commentary as large screens played back the obstacle race. Izuku spotted himself on-screen and ducked his head.

"Nothing so far," Izuku said. "Looks like they're still just cleaning up."

"Mikumi!"

It took a few seconds and his friends' stares for Izuku to realize someone was calling his name. He spun around, searching, and there— a waving hand.

"Mikumi! Over here, stupid!"

Izuku jogged over to the stairs and then made his way up, mouth splitting into a wide smile.

Silver pulled down her green visor. Under it, her eyes gleamed. She was dressed nicely, in a green ensemble. Her tail had been looped through her jeans like a belt, and she'd taken off the metal casing she usually had so it was a little more inconspicuous. Now, with her hair up, tail hidden, and a face full of makeup, Izuku thought she looked like a completely different person. They were good at that, the two of them.

"That was a dumb move you pulled," she said, flicking his arm.

"You thought it was cool," Izuku said.

"I didn't," Silver replied, but her mouth curved upwards. "You didn't place first."

Izuku shrugged. "I was thinking of keeping a low profile."

Silver punched him this time. "Second place is _not_ low profile."

Izuku crossed his arms petulantly. He scowled at the ground. She was right—he hadn't really wanted to place in the top few spots, worried he'd draw a bit _too_ much attention for his liking.

"I didn't think it'd work so well," he admitted. "It wasn't like there was much time to think. I just wanted to catch up."

Silver blew out a breath. "What's next?"

"They haven't told us anything either," Izuku replied. "Honestly, I don't have any idea."

Silver grunted.

"There's a lot of people watching," Izuku said. Silver raised a brow.

"There are."

"Hisashi's not here."

Silver shook his head. "He wouldn't miss it, though. The others, maybe, but you can count on him watching."

Izuku dropped his head back to stare at the sky. " _Great._ "

"Are you going to show off your new… Quirk… ability… whatever?"

"I have to, if I want to win."

"Careful," Silver said. She looked around, frowning like she wanted to say something but knew she couldn't. "There's a lot of eyes on you."

"More than I'd like," Izuku agreed. "I'd— I'd better go. Time's almost up."

Silver gave him a weighted look. She twirled a piece of hair around her finger. Her mouth puckered, and then she nodded.

"I'll see you after, maybe?"

"Maybe," Izuku agreed, though he wasn't sure. Maybe they could go catch a meal together, or some sodas down the street without getting caught by anyone. He could spare a bit of time before going back. That sounded nice.

"Don't be stupid," Silver shouted after his back as he headed back.

He spun to face her, making a heart with his hands. "No promises!"

"Was that a friend of yours?" Uraraka asked when he got back.

Kaminari slid in out of nowhere. "Saw you talking to a pretty _girl,_ Akatani. Girlfriend?"

Izuku choked. "No!"

Kaminari patted his chest. "That's exactly what you'd say if you were dating her. Damn, Akatani, scoring with the ladies."

Izuku shoved him and then crossed his arms over his chest defensively when Kaminari ran off, grinning.

"She's not my girlfriend," Izuku told his friends. "Just a friend. We're like siblings."

"Oh," Uraraka said. She looked a bit red in the face and was studying the ground. "Well- well, we'd better get ready for the next event!"

She darted off towards the stadium grounds. Izuku sent Iida a confused look, and then the two of them followed her out to where the U.A. students were gathering.

When Midnight saw that they'd all arrived, she started explaining the second event.

"Next up is the Cavalry Battle," she said. "You have ten minutes to form teams of two or four."

To simulate both hero competition and teamwork, Midnight explained, each student had been assigned a point-value that corresponded with their placement in the obstacle race. Team totals were worn on headbands assigned to the 'rider'—funny, Izuku thought. He wasn't exactly sure having a Human Cavalry Battle was reflective of the real world, but he supposed the event would be interesting, at least.

Midnight explained a few other rules as Izuku digested the information and started scouting his classmates. It'd be nice to have Uraraka and Iida on his team, but they'd need a fourth member. Sato or Shoji? Sero's Quirk could be useful. There wasn't a chance that Kacchan would work with him, or Todoroki, for that matter.

Iida nudged him. "Point values are going up. Pay attention."

Numbers were being called out, starting from the lowest to the highest. Izuku chewed on his lip, worried, as they got closer to the top. When they called his name, Izuku sucked in a breath.

"Akatani Mikumi — ten thousand points."

His friends' eyes darted to him.

"That's a lot," Izuku squeaked. Most of the point-values had ranged from under a hundred to about a thousand. Todoroki, in third, had five thousand.

Uraraka patted his shoulder. "It was nice knowing you."

"Last," Midnight called, smiling deviously, "but certainly not least, Bakugou Katsuki — ten million points."

A ripple shot through the crowd. Izuku gaped. Uraraka was blindly grasping at Izuku's arm, like she needed support to hang onto.

Kacchan, to his credit, only grinned. He'd be a target with that ten million points, with all eyes on him. But Izuku knew the strength and versatility of his Quirk would draw people to him. He looked Izuku in the eye, silent challenge crossing between them.

"Well," Izuku told his friends, smiling nervously back, "I'm glad I wasn't first."


	20. Chapter 20

**Flare Signal** _  
chapter twenty_

* * *

"Please be on my team," Izuku begged, putting on a smile for his friends. "I know we can do it together."

Uraraka beamed back at him. "Of course I'll be on your team!"

She held out a fist, and Izuku bumped their knuckles together, grinning. He turned to Iida, who was polishing his glasses and frowning.

"Iida?"

Iida fit his glasses back on. "I apologize, Akatani." He took in a breath. "You're my friend, but you're also a strong student. I need to prove myself."

Izuku rolled the words around in his mind for a second.

"I'll miss you," he said, smiling, "but good luck."

Iida dipped his head. "You, too."

Izuku shifted back and forth on his feet. Already people were clumping together into teams.

"Maybe we could just be a group of two," Uraraka suggested. Izuku scanned the crowd of students again.

"Yeah—"

"Hey!" Izuku didn't even flinch as Hatsume materialized in front of him, beaming. "I'm on your team now."

"Huh?" Uraraka sputtered.

Izuku took an easy step backward out of Hatsume's personal space.

"Eyes are going to be on you," Hatsume said, pointing a finger at Izuku's face. She tossed her hair. "So if I'm on your team, I can show off my babies to _all_ the big companies."

She pulled a heavy case out of nowhere. "You've already seen some of my babies, but these are some of my best ones!"

Izuku squinted. She'd brought a lot of equipment, but Izuku wasn't about to turn her away. Support course students were meant to, well, support heroes. He knew Hatsume's designs—or from what little he'd seen of them—enough that they could come in handy in a pinch, especially seeing the hungry eyes around ten thousand points.

"Is that a spud shooter?"

"It doesn't matter," Hatsume said, then winked. "It can shoot a lot more than potatoes. Right now it's filled with goop! Based _that_ around Cementoss. Ooh, do you like this one? I modeled this baby after a certain hero."

Izuku looked at the jetpack Hatsume shoved in his hands. "Er, this isn't what you used earlier, was it?"

Then he looked closer. "You… you, are you talking about the Buster Hero? Air Jet?"

Hatsume brightened. "Of _course_! He's so cool. You like him?"

"I got to tour his agency when I was a kid, since I lived close by."

Hatsume started going off on a spiel, talking about the jetpack's design and the improvements she'd made, as well as how much she admired Air Jet's team of flight heroes.

"You're on my team now," he agreed, then coughed. "Er, Uraraka, this is Hatsume. She's from the Support Department. We, uh… we met a while back. Hatsume, this is my classmate Uraraka."

Uraraka got over her surprise and nodded. "Nice to meet you."

Hatsume's eyes were sparkling. "You're the gravity girl."

"That's me."

"Hatsume," Izuku warned, but he was only half-focused on how interested Hatsume seemed to be at Uraraka's costume. Instead he was searching for a last person to round out their team. Both Hatsume and Uraraka were powerful in their own right, but Izuku thought that together, they made a good getaway.

It was a tragedy Iida had rejected Izuku's offer. But still—

Uraraka called after him as Izuku left his two teammates, gaze locked on his target.

"Tokoyami," he said, grabbing his classmate's shoulder. "I need your help."

Tokoyami swiveled to face him. Izuku smiled, showing all of his teeth, and with that, their team was set.

The time ticked down to zero. Izuku led Tokoyami back to his team, crossing paths with Todoroki on the way.

He stopped, glancing sideways at Todoroki.

"Looks like it's not me you have to target, Todoroki," he said, keeping his tone casual as he tilted his head in Kacchan's direction. "You want to be on top, you'll have to fight Bakugou. And if you want his ten million points, you're also going to have to fight me for it."

Todoroki's gaze followed Izuku's cue. His eyes narrowed when he saw Kacchan.

"Looking forward to taking it," Izuku said cheerily, then walked away before Todoroki could respond. Izuku crossed his fingers and hoped his jabs had paid off.

"Are you really going to fight Todoroki and Bakugou?"

Izuku grinned at Tokoyami as they joined the rest of their team.

"No," he said, "I'm just making sure Todoroki goes after Bakugou and not after us. After that, we won't have to worry so much about keeping our points."

Uraraka peered at him as he was hoisted up. "Is that the plan?"

"Well," Izuku told them quietly, "once Todoroki goes after Bakugou, they'll probably keep each other occupied the entire time. They're our two strongest students, right? And if one of them steals the other's points, they'll be chasing after each other."

"So we'll stay far away," Tokoyami said.

Izuku ran his tongue over his teeth. "My goal this round is to secure all of us a place in the final event. Top four."

"Playing it safe?"

"There's still nine other teams," Izuku pointed out. "I don't think we're playing it safe at all. Ten thousand points is no joke."

There wasn't any more time to talk as the cavalry teams lined up. Present Mic drew the crowd into a frenzied roar-then the horn blared, and they were off.

Izuku's team immediately went airborne. Something shot towards them. Tokoyami knocked it away as they veered sideways. And with that, the battle began.

Izuku lost himself in a whirl of movement. They slipped from the ground to the sky easily, taking flight when they needed to. A projectile clipped Izuku's arm, but it only stung.

"Todoroki's heading to Bakugou," Uraraka reported. " _Incoming_ -"

Another group slammed bodily into them. Izuku cried out as they tried desperately to keep balance.

Hands tore at his head, his hair, his neck. Izuku lashed out blindly, trusting his instincts. He caught someone in the face, then in a dirty move jabbed his fingers into her throat as he tore off her headband.

The jetpack on his back shuddered. Izuku realized a terrifying second later that he was no longer going _up_ and instead going _down._

And his team was going with him.

Something dark swept under them; Dark Shadow cushioned their fall. Izuku's scream caught in his throat, but the danger wasn't over.

Uraraka shrieked when a roll of tape wrapped around her and pulled harshly. Izuku fumbled blindly for his knife and cut into the open air as Sero's Quirk wove around them. The temperature dropped, then rose again.

"Shit," Izuku hissed. They'd been knocked right into the thick of Todoroki and Kacchan's fight, and with their means of escape ruined, they'd have to fight their way out.

"Good to see you join us," Todoroki called. Izuku bared his teeth.

He needed to think fast. Todoroki's team was powerful. Kacchan was- well, he was _Kacchan._

"New plan!" Izuku shouted to his team. "Let's just… give it everything we've got!"

His friends all called their confirmations. Izuku gritted his teeth as he took a second to size up their opponents. Kirishima was a good partner for Kacchan; their Quirks complemented each other very well. Todoroki, too, had corralled a good team. Hard to beat.

Time was ticking. Caught between Todoroki and Kacchan, there was no way Izuku would make it out with his ten thousand points without using his Quirk.

He gritted his teeth.

"Let's go!"

One for All ignited as Izuku's team rushed forward. Kacchan turned to face him, and his eyes widened when he took in the crackling power around Izuku.

Uraraka sent Kirishima skyward. Before the other team could regain control, Dark Shadow was there, screeching. Izuku pushed forward, feeling the power surge in his limbs.

He rammed into Kacchan, pounding under his defense. His headband was right there, so _close._

Izuku scrabbled at it, but reeled back as light followed by a closed fist burst in his face. His teammates didn't let him fall. He surged right back, the two of them grappling dangerously.

There wasn't time to play nice. Izuku brought his elbow up hard into Kacchan's stomach, then tugged again at the ten-million headband again. An explosion rattled him, but Izuku braced this time. He shut his eyes, pulled again, and felt the headband giving way.

"Back!" Izuku shouted. Someone pulled him backwards as Kacchan shouted, fire blossoming in his hands.

"You actually got it," Uraraka cried breathlessly.

A blur of motion too quick for Izuku to catch. His fingers burned, then closed around air. A laugh followed.

"Never mind," Uraraka shouted as Monoma fled with the headband. Izuku swore, reaching up to make sure his own headband was still there. It was. Kacchan screamed in rage, turning his gaze onto Monoma instead.

" _Five minutes!"_

"Go after it!" Hatsume yelled, "we can take that dumb blonde!"

"Which one?"

"Both!"

"New problem," Tokoyami cut in, "Todoroki's heading our way."

"I can break the ice if he gets too close," Izuku said, firing up One for All again. "Look. He's tired."

"His team isn't."

"Hold," Izuku said, narrowing his eyes. "We need to get Iida out of the picture."

"No windows to kick him out of."

He thought for a moment about his team. Uraraka could float Iida, perhaps, but that meant he had to be close enough to touch. Izuku wanted him eliminated before he even got close.

"Hey… Hatsume?"

"Yeeeah?"

"Do you still have your, uh," Izuku coughed, "spud… goop… gun?"

Hatsume beamed up at him. "'Course I do!"

He jerked his head in Iida's direction. "You think that'll be enough to stop Iida from blasting off?"

"They're gaining," Tokoyami warned.

"That's a good idea," Uraraka said, as they retreated backwards. "We could stick them all where they are so they're stationary. Then they're forced on defense."

Tokoyami had been keeping his sharp eyes on the battle ahead.

"Whatever the plan is, you need to act fast," he warned.

"Hatsume?"

"Yeah, boss?"

Izuku levelled a hand in Iida's direction. "Fire away."

"Tokoyami, you and Dark Shadow act as distraction. Aim for Todoroki so he's on defense - he'll leave Iida open."

Dark Shadow hissed something, curling around them. A blur of darkness swept past. The opposing team slowed when Dark Shadow shrieked in their faces. Ice swept upwards, but it was slow in its formation. Dark Shadow pulled back, blocked by Yaoyorozu, but it didn't matter.

"Take this, Turbo Kid!" Hatsume shouted. She was laughing a bit more gleefully than Izuku expected as she started firing. Todoroki swung his arm, ice crystallizing, but Dark Shadow smashed through it.

"Akatani, behind!"

Izuku twisted, Quirk sparking. He reacted just in time to grab Monoma's shoulders and shove him backwards.

"Heh," Monoma said, grinning. He flexed his fingers. "Let's see what Quirk you've been hiding."

Izuku hissed in a sharp breath. He'd let his guard down. If Monoma had his Quirk - had _copied_ his _Quirk_ \- then Izuku was done for.

One for All sparked between his fingers. Monoma hadn't stopped smiling, but Izuku knew he could count on the fact that One for All had a bit of a… learning curve.

Then Monoma's expression changed. First to confusion, then anger.

"What-"

Izuku narrowed his eyes at the headbands slung around Monoma's neck. Kacchan, it seemed, had taken his back. Things were starting to click. Ideas whirled around in Izuku's head, but he shoved them away.

"How do you like my Quirk?" Izuku asked.

Monoma growled, frustrated. Before he could copy anyone else's Quirk, Izuku shoved Monoma's chest and sent him backwards again.

"Fine," Monoma hissed. Fire blossomed from his hands—not Todoroki's Quirk, but Kacchan's. Izuku swore.

" _Two minutes!"_

"Team Todoroki is down!"

Izuku swiveled around. Monoma paused.

"Thanks for the help," Monoma said. A second later his team sprinted past Izuku's, heading towards where Hatsume had helpfully immobilized Todoroki's entire team.

The entire stadium's focus turned on the team with easy pickings. Even immobilized, though, Todoroki's team could pack a punch.

"Stay," he said, when his own cavalry moved to follow. "Let them fight."

Izuku touched his neck, where the headbands were settled. They still had all the points they'd started with, plus a little extra from what his team had taken in the fights. There was no point in risking it.

"C'mon, boss man," Hatsume whined.

"I think Akatani is right," Tokoyami said. "There's maybe a little over a minute left, and we have enough points for a place."

Izuku tuned them out.

"Uh… guys? I think Bakugou is coming after us."

"What's the plan?"

"Hatsume—"

"I'm out of ammo."

"Quirks?"

"Dark Shadow and Blasty don't go well together."

"I'm almost out."

"Let them come," Izuku said, heart pounding. For the last time, One for All jumped across his skin. It hummed loudly, like it knew it was time for a fight. "I need you guys to keep moving while I try to get the ten million."

"Are you sure?"

"Akatani!"

"Funny seeing you here, Bakugou," Izuku called. Dark Shadow burst forth; Kacchan blasted him away, but then Izuku was there in his face.

Light enveloped his vision. Izuku had braced for the explosion; he reacted blindly, striking out with a fist. He connected with something, but Kacchan let loose another.

"Give me your fuckin—"

Izuku twisted under Kacchan's arm, grabbing it and pulling him closer. Caught off balance, Kacchan and Kirishima stumbled forward.

The ten million headband was right there. Izuku retaliated against another explosion and then reached. Fabric pulled loose in his grip; Kacchan yelled, but Izuku's team was already retreating.

Kacchan gave chase. Izuku fumbled, slipping the headband on and just barely moving in time to miss getting his head blown off.

"You!"

" _Thirty seconds!"_

Kacchan grabbed Izuku's arm, nails digging in. Izuku tried to shake him loose, but Kacchan let a small explosion burst with his other hand. Izuku flinched on instinct, and that was when Kacchan struck. Izuku felt a weight disappear off his chest as Dark Shadow screeched.

He shouted, throwing himself forward. The resulting fight had no thought involved. Izuku found himself caught in a flurry of limbs, moving on instinct. Kacchan's face, lit by the fire of his own explosions and set in a snarl. Izuku, eyes stinging, power pulsing through his body.

Kacchan tore through his defense and grabbed the headbands around Izuku's neck, pulling. They came free; Izuku made a last, desperate move and managed to get two back.

" _Stop! The Cavalry Battle is finished!"_

Izuku caught Kacchan's gaze. They stared at each other, headbands hanging loosely from their fingers.

"It's over," Uraraka said, quietly.

"Sorry," Izuku said, "I lost—"

It was then he took a second glance at the headbands he was holding. The top one was just a few points, but the next—

"That's not ten thousand," Izuku said faintly as his feet met solid ground. His team crowded around him.

Hatsume whooped, slugging Izuku's shoulder. "That's ten _million_ , baby!"

In the end, Team Akatani placed first. Kacchan had come in a close second—they'd switched places. Team Todoroki, it seemed, had managed to hold onto their points, staying in third. A Gen-Ed kid—Shinsou—placed fourth.

Izuku laughed when his team lifted him on their shoulders, chanting _ten million_ over and over again.

"Guys, stop," Izuku tried, but laughter bubbled from his throat. When he was eventually set down, he bowed to his team. "Thanks, guys. I couldn't have done it without you."

He smiled at them. "Don't know about you, but I'm wiped."

"It's good that we get this lunch break," Uraraka agreed. "I need to recharge before the last event."

"If it's a team event, I want you," Hatsume said. She didn't look tired at all, clipping her used and broken equipment to her belt. She caught him looking and said, "I'll fix it over lunch."

"We should— ah, eat lunch together," Tokoyami suggested, though he looked a bit hesitant. Izuku beamed.

"That's a great idea!"

Izuku looked around at his classmates. They were all mingling, relaxing after the tough battle. Iida was bowing furiously to his teammates, but Yaoyorozu was gesturing calmly back. Kacchan was leaning against the back wall, arms crossed over his chest as Kirishima waved his arms empathetically.

"So… lunch?"

"Lunch," Izuku agreed.

"Hey, what do they play on TV while we're on lunch break?"

"Ah," Tokoyami said, "that's when performances start getting reviewed. For the first two events. That way, agencies and heroes can get a better view of the different students and their Quirks, since there's so much going on."

"The third event has to be more individual, then," Izuku pointed out as they walked, "I mean, otherwise it wouldn't make sense. Besides the timing, of course."

A couple of the students' families had started to trickle in, supervised by the teachers. Izuku watched, jealousy stirring in his stomach as other kids were congratulated and cheered at.

"Mikumi!"

"Oh, it's you again," Izuku said, but he smiled brightly at Silver. She poked him.

"Did you think I'd leave?"

Izuku shrugged back at her. "Thought maybe you could be called away for business."

They both made faces at the same time. Business was never any good.

"I think," Silver started, then shut her mouth. Her gaze travelled over Izuku's shoulder.

"You think what?"

"I think you and I are going to get lunch together," Silver said, clamping her hand around Izuku's wrist. "Sorry, we're going to go."

"Silver, wha—"

She dragged him away, but Izuku dug his heels in.

"Silver, stop, Silver."

Silver stopped this time.

"Don't turn around," she said finally.

Izuku, of course, turned around. He regretted it instantly when his gaze settled on a short figure rushing from the stands. Izuku's heart leapt in his throat. He took a step forward, then a step back. Silver's grip on him tightened, like she could stop him.

"Katsuki!"

From where he'd been brooding against the wall, Kacchan startled. He looked around, then spotted the woman rushing towards him. His posture softened.

 _Mom,_ Izuku mouthed to himself.

"I'm so proud of you," she said. Mom took Kacchan's hands, talking excitedly for a moment before bursting into tears. Kacchan rolled his eyes, sniping back a little, but Izuku knew he didn't mean any of it.

"Izuku?" Silver whispered, only loud enough for him.

Izuku couldn't tear his eyes away from the scene. Mom straightened Kacchan's shirt, told him something. Kacchan batted her away, but he responded. Then Mom grabbed Kirishima's arm, pulling him in so she could take pictures.

"Izuku?"

Izuku had lost the ability to speak, to breathe. He just kept staring and staring at the woman who'd raised him. She looked like he remembered, dark green hair pulled back in a bun, warm and soft, smiling brilliantly. She wiped at her face and then took Kacchan's arm. Mom looked around at the rest of the students; her gaze paused on Izuku, and the air left his lungs. But recognition didn't spark in her eyes at all. She released him from her gaze, and Izuku felt like all he had suddenly drained out of him.

Silver put an arm around his shoulders and pushed him until Izuku started walking. He kept looking back into the sunlight, where Mom was standing.

"I'll take you to lunch," Silver said. Izuku wheezed. She steered him out and around the stadium, where little booths and stores were set up temporarily.

Then Silver looked into his face and sighed. She led them somewhere dark and quiet and then put her arms around him.

Izuku hadn't realized until the sound around them had faded that he'd been panting, strange little noises escaping past his mouth. He whined into Silver's shoulder.

"I know," Silver said, and he held on, comforted. "I'm sorry. I didn't know she was here."

Izuku shook his head. He couldn't speak.

"You good?"

Izuku buried his face in Silver's neck for a moment. After a while, his breathing seemed to settle. The emotions that had threatened to pull him under now sank back down.

"Thanks," he said. Izuku wiped at his face but found it dry.

"It's been a while, huh."

"Years," Izuku said. "We should, we should get lunch."

Silver didn't let him go past. "Are you alright?"

Izuku didn't want to tell her that if he said any more he was sure he'd fall apart at the seams. He hadn't realized what it'd meant to him, seeing Mom again.

"I'd rather cry into a bowl of katsudon," Izuku said. Silver let out a breath, and they walked back out together to get lunch. Then the two of them tucked themselves into a private, shaded area to eat together.

Izuku picked at his food.

"You should eat," Silver said. "You're going to need it."

Izuku dutifully put a piece of meat in his mouth, chewed, and swallowed hard.

"I thought," he started, then stopped. "I didn't know."

Silver shook her head.

"I don't know whether I'm happy to see her again or terrified," Izuku said finally. Standing in line for food had given him a little more time to calm down and sort through his thoughts, but also to think more about Mom.

"Yeah."

"I wasn't really thinking about it, but if I was I might've just… gone and ruined everything."

"Yeah."

Izuku shoved some rice into his mouth.

"I wish it wasn't like this," Silver said, "but I don't think it's time yet."

Izuku snorted. "Are you kidding? Things are just getting worse and worse. I'm not going to drag anyone into this mess."

"You know I've got your back," Silver said quietly. Izuku nodded, then took her hand and squeezed it, suddenly grateful.

"I just… they made it clear that," Izuku said, gesturing so Silver knew what he meant. "You know. I can't…"

"Izuku."

Izuku jerked up, meeting Silver's eyes. She put a hand on his knee.

"I know I said it's not time yet, but… I think we should start figuring out a way for you to get out of here."

"I don't think there's a way out."

"There's always a way out."

"Silver…"

"I can't help you much," Silver said, "not without putting myself in too much danger. But you and I both have friends. I've got money. Not now, while everyone is watching, but when you get the chance, you could run."

Izuku thought it over.

"And leave you behind?"

Silver leaned back on her hands. "That was always how it was going to end up, Izuku. I can't go with you."

"No."

"I'll find a way to get things to you," Silver said. "We're good at sneaking around."

"How much do you know about what I'm involved in?"

Silver paused. "What do you mean? With the League?"

He nodded.

"I know Shigaraki needs you for information."

Izuku stabbed his chopsticks into his rice, then hastily took them back out. She didn't know about All for One, then. Izuku wasn't sure at this point there _was_ any running away he could do. He'd just hold on for as long as possible, try to glean as much as he could before the day came when it all went down.

"It's… more than that," Izuku hedged. "I— we shouldn't talk about this now, Silver. Don't get my hopes up like that."

He silently begged for her to drop the subject. Silver frowned.

"Another time," she pressed.

"Yeah."

Silver checked the time—they still had ten minutes before the noonday break was over. Izuku finished his lunch and then pulled his knees up to his chest. Soon he wouldn't have any time to waste worrying about Mom or the League or anything. Soon the only worrying that Izuku would be doing was probably about staying alive and not being frozen by Todoroki or something.

"Will I see you later?"

"Probably not," Silver said. "Even in disguise, this place is crawling with heroes. No offense, that's probably a good thing, but once the Sports Festival is over I'll be out of here."

Izuku nodded. "I understand."

"I doubt anyone would look twice at me, though." Silver's mouth twitched upwards. "All eyes are on you."

"Don't remind me."

"Ten Million," she teased. Izuku huffed, covering his face.

"I can never disappear again," he groaned. "Now people are going to pay attention to me. Especially Kacchan."

Silver laughed. "I wish I could've seen his face up close when he realized you'd stolen the number one place."

"Don't get used to it," Izuku warned, "since I'm going to hold back this next event."

"You've made enough of an impression," Silver agreed. "It's time to pull back before you get too much attention."

She stood, brushing off her pants. Izuku followed suit.

"This is it, then?"

"Don't be so dramatic, Izuku," Silver said. "Good luck with the rest of the Festival."

"See you later, then."

Silver squeezed his shoulder. "I like that better. See you later."

He watched her go, disappearing into the crowd easily until she was nothing more than a dash of color. Izuku took a deep breath, thinking of all the things he was scared of, then let them go.

It was time to face the last event of the Sports Festival.


	21. Chapter 21

**Flare Signal** _  
chapter twenty-one_

* * *

"Akatani."

"Ah— Todoroki. Uh, hi?" Izuku chewed on his lip. "Oh! Good job in the last event. Your team did really well."

Todoroki raised an eyebrow. "Not well enough. You came in first place."

Izuku cleared his throat. "Did you… need something?"

Todoroki tilted his head to the side, gesturing for Izuku to follow. They stepped into a hall, somewhere private and out of the way.

"The last event starts soon, so I won't waste your time," Todoroki said, "but I wanted to talk to you."

"Oh, um, okay?"

Todoroki folded his hands over each other, pale and smooth, like two little birds settling into place.

Izuku had to wonder what Todoroki wanted to talk about. They weren't close, nor were they close to being friends. Maybe it would be another declaration of war.

"You're All Might's illegitimate son, aren't you?"

Whatever Izuku had been expecting, it wasn't that.

"Uhh…?"

Todoroki didn't seem very impressed.

"I've been thinking about it," Todoroki said. "It makes sense. Your Quirks are similar. The way he acts around you, the secrecy… you're his son."

Todoroki blinked slowly, then looked at Izuku through his lashes. "I suspect Akatani may not even be your real name."

Izuku made a high-pitched, wordless noise. Todoroki continued.

"It took me some time to figure out, but I think I understand."

"You… really don't," Izuku said, and then he started laughing. "He— oh, man, he's, he's not… my dad."

Todoroki looked bewildered—the clearest expression Izuku had seen on him yet.

"It's alright," he said finally, "it doesn't matter what your relationship to him is. Regardless, both I and my father consider you his— successor. That makes you my competition."

Izuku was still reeling from the thought of All Might— _All Might_ —being his _dad_. He frowned.

"Competition?"

Todoroki took in a breath. He'd never looked more serious than when he next spoke.

"Have you ever heard of Quirk marriages, Akatani?"

There, under the stands, Todoroki told Izuku about everything he had left: Endeavor's ambition, an empty pot of boiling water, and half of a Quirk.

Izuku felt sick. He felt the same way as when Hisashi had first blown smoke in his face—eyes burning and stinging, lungs filling with thick darkness, poison seeping into his skin.

"Todoroki," Izuku said, and the name felt bitter in his mouth.

"Don't," Todoroki said. "I don't need your pity, Akatani. I have no use for it."

Izuku swallowed. He wasn't sure what to say, just that he wanted to speak. There were words sitting on his tongue, waiting for him to unfurl them, but he couldn't decipher what they were, couldn't quite taste them.

"But..."

"I only wanted to tell you so you would understand."

Izuku licked his lips. "Understand what?"

Todoroki's hands, which had remained folded throughout their entire conversation, now lifted and then fell to his sides. Like the little birds had dropped from the sky.

"That I refuse to use his Quirk."

Izuku blinked.

"I'm going to beat you," Todoroki said, "because I have to, but I'm going to do it without fire."

"Fire," Izuku echoed.

Todoroki looked him in the eye, waiting for a challenge. Izuku didn't have one for him.

"That is all I wanted to say to you."

Todoroki turned on his heel and stalked away. Izuku watched him go and saw the tense, sharp line of his shoulders. He saw the invisible ice, crackling over Todoroki's skin, enveloping him in a smooth, pristine armor. Ice was strong, Izuku thought, but it could be cracked. It could be broken.

"Todoroki, wait," Izuku said, but his voice was too quiet and Todoroki too far away. He reached out. Todoroki disappeared into the stands, and Izuku was left standing there.

He looked at his hands. Making sure there was no one to see, Izuku conjured for the first time in a while an illusion. Flames danced gently between his fingers, wavering. He thought of Endeavor then—when Izuku and Kacchan were younger, they'd admired Endeavor, too. He was second-best after All Might. The fire hero, the man who could walk through flames, who could withstand any heat.

They'd both wanted to be strong, like All Might, and unyielding, like Endeavor. Izuku bit down hard on the inside of his cheek until it hurt.

Now Izuku knew. All Might was as he'd always been, regardless of being a hero or a civilian. There was no difference between All Might and Yagi Toshinori, except perhaps Toshinori carried more sadness, and his smiles were more genuine. But his heart was the same—his spirit was the same. Izuku had learned that.

Endeavor, it seemed, was the opposite. That victorious smirk, the strong stance he took. The number two hero, ever-burning. Somehow in his bitterness and jealousy he'd turned down a path Izuku could have never imagined.

"I'm sorry," Izuku said aloud, though he knew no one was listening.

Maybe— maybe after the Sports Festival, Izuku could find the chance to speak to Todoroki. If he dared to. He'd offer a hand in friendship, the only thing Izuku could give that was worth anything.

"Akatani?"

Izuku turned and saw All Might striding towards him. A glance around, and then he was just Toshinori again.

"Ah… hey."

Toshinori's wide smile faltered when he saw Izuku's face.

"Are you alright?"

Izuku took in a deep breath, about to say _yes_ , and then stopped. "I don't know."

"Is this about the Sports Festival? Mikumi—"

"Yes, no, I don't know," Izuku said. "It's the Sports Festival, but it's, like, not the Sports Festival. It's, I, I don't know, I can't talk about it."

Toshinori put both hands on Izuku's shoulder.

"Stop," he said, and Izuku did.

"I don't think I can do this."

"Do what?"

Izuku gestured hopelessly. "Any of it. All of it. I'm sorry."

"Everybody's watching," Izuku said, "I know it, and everybody's waiting for me to mess up. And people have noticed that we- that us... that you and me aren't just, I don't know, teacher and student? You said this was my chance to show the world who I am, and I'm going to blow it."

Toshinori's brow creased. "That... I..." he struggled. Izuku swallowed.

"I just can't do it," Izuku said again. He was sure, now, that things were going to start falling apart.

"You can," Toshinori said.

Izuku's face was suddenly pressed against fabric. Toshinori's thin arms wound around him tightly, and Izuku stood shock-still as Toshinori hugged him.

"I know you can do it," Toshinori said in his ear, "because you are strong. I saw that in you when we first met. I still see it in you. It's a spark that no one can take from you."

Izuku's throat went tight.

"Toshinori..."

"I am not asking you to win," Toshinori said gently, pulling back so that he could look Izuku in the face. He took Izuku's chin in a large hand and held it there with long fingers so that Izuku was forced to look him in the eye.

"Then what are you asking me to do?"

"Make your mark. Show the whole world that spark that I see in you. That's all you have to do—be true to yourself, and the rest will follow."

Toshinori let Izuku go and folded him into another hug, looser this time.

"You don't have to be me," Toshinori said. "You just have to be you."

Izuku stared at his mentor, wordless.

"There's a lot on your mind, I can tell," Toshinori said, tapping the side of Izuku's head.

"Don't worry so much, my boy. Let it go."

Izuku dropped his gaze. "For now."

Toshinori gave him a smile and then an expectant look. Izuku sighed, but he stretched his lips upwards into a small smile back. The light in Toshinori's eyes made Izuku feel a little better.

"I'll be rooting for you, alright?"

Izuku nodded.

"Good luck."

"Thanks, Toshinori. I should get going. My first match is soon, I think."

Toshinori was nodding along. A puff of smoke, and then All Might grinned down at him, ruffling Izuku's hair with a large hand.

"Um, this is it, I guess."

All Might put a hand on Izuku's back and then pushed him forwards. "Go on, Akatani."

His friends were in the stands. Uraraka waved when she saw him emerge.

"Hey," Izuku said, plopping down in the empty spot next to her and trying to pretend that none of the events in the last hour had happened. "What's up?"

"What's up is you disappeared on us?"

"S—"

"I'm only joking," Uraraka said, nudging him. "Did you see the match pairings?"

Izuku hummed. "You're up against Bakugou."

Uraraka went rigid. "Yeah."

"You could beat him," Izuku said. "I know you can."

"Don't give me any ideas," Uraraka said, eyes blazing. "I know you've probably got it all worked out in your head, but…"

Izuku touched her shoulder and said, "I believe in you."

"Oh, did you hear?" Uraraka said, "Ojiro dropped from this round."

"What? Why?"

"He said he didn't deserve the spot because he was manipulated, so he couldn't do his best. A Class 1-B kid, too."

Izuku scanned the rows of students, looking for Ojiro. "...Manipulated?"

"Uh-huh," Uraraka replied. "You know that Shinsou kid?"

"From Gen Ed?"

"Yeah. Something about his Quirk."

"Do you know what it is? Looks like I'm going up against him."

Uraraka shook her head. "Sorry, no."

Midnight called for the tournament to begin and for the first opponents to prepare. Izuku's friends wished him luck before he left; he waved and ducked down towards the ring.

Ojiro was waiting for him. "Hey," he said, catching Izuku's arm.

"Ojiro—"

"Be careful with Shinsou, Akatani. Don't speak to him."

Izuku narrowed his eyes, thinking.

"He has a brainwashing Quirk," Ojiro continued, "but a good hit will knock you out of it. Don't let him catch you."

Izuku paused on the thought. "Alright," he said eventually, "thanks for the help, Ojiro."

Ojiro nodded. "Good luck out there."

A brainwashing Quirk, huh? From the little that Ojiro had told him, Izuku could come up with dozens of useful applications. Like Eraserhead's Quirk, Izuku knew that this brainwashing Quirk had a more subtle nature, but could be extremely valuable.

"The possibilities," Izuku muttered to himself as he walked out to where Midnight was standing with Shinsou, "I mean, just incredible. He could diffuse a villain fight in minutes just by talking to them. I wonder what the limits are? Maybe _I_ could test his limits—no, no, that wouldn't be a good idea. Underground work would suit him well. Infiltration could be really easy…"

"Are you done?" a voice drawled.

Izuku opened his mouth on instinct to respond and then stopped himself short. Shinsou looked back at Izuku expectantly, eyes cool.

Izuku turned towards Midnight instead. "I'm ready to begin the match."

Out of the corner of his eye, Izuku saw Shinsou's mouth turn downwards. He gave himself a smile, silently thanking Ojiro for the advice.

"You _heroes_ ," Shinsou hissed at him. "You're all the same. Born gifted with your Quirks. You think you're on top of the world. You think you deserve everything handed to you on a silver platter because you're _powerful_ , and you can punch things or make them explode."

Izuku bit down hard on his tongue.

"Please separate," Midnight said. "Either side of the ring."

Izuku shuffled dutifully to the left as Shinsou headed right.

"You don't understand what it's like," Shinsou called across the din. Izuku screwed his eyes shut, but didn't react otherwise even though he wanted to. "You don't get it. You'll never get it. You're up there with the golden boys, the flashy ones, Bakugou and Todoroki, aren't you?"

Izuku bit down harder.

 _You don't understand what it's like for them,_ he wanted to scream. He thought of Kacchan, pushing himself, always working harder to prove himself. Then he thought of Todoroki, standing under his father's shadow, clawing himself out of it.

"And the first match…. begins!"

Izuku sprang into action. He darted forward.

Shinsou's eyes widened in surprise when Izuku charged towards him. Izuku pressed down on both of his Quirks and went without, tackling Shinsou to the ground. Dust flew up in a hazy cloud.

Izuku growled wordlessly, pinning Shinsou down. It took seconds.

Shinsou glared back up at him. His lips pulled back to reveal bared teeth; he knew they were outmatched in strength and skill. Bonestealer had taught Izuku to fight, and All Might had trained him.

The crowd went wild, roaring. Izuku could barely make out snatches of their words.

Shinsou slipped a hand free. Izuku moved, but Shinsou didn't fight back. Instead he grabbed the front of Izuku's suit and pulled him closer so he could whisper into Izuku's ear.

"And I bet," Shinsou said lowly, just for the two of them, "that you've never been called a villain, _hero._ "

Izuku jerked back like he'd just been dealt a physical blow.

Shinsou was smiling. Izuku couldn't tell what kind of smile it was—if it was razor-sharp and barbed like his words, if it was sad, if he was a hungry wolf.

It didn't matter.

"Go on," Shinsou invited. He tilted his head towards the white line of the boundaries. "Knock me out."

Izuku ground his teeth together.

" _How dare you,"_ Izuku said lowly, and the words were almost worth the delighted surprise in Shinsou's eyes. He'd been caught, but he couldn't bring himself to care.

"How dare you," Izuku shouted this time, "do you think we have everything? Do you think we don't bleed for what we do? How can you say that— how can you think that, Shinsou?"

"Get up," Shinsou said.

Izuku's body obeyed, but the words were still pouring from his mouth. Shinsou could make him move, but he couldn't stop the tears from pooling in the corners of Izuku's eyes.

"You're no villain," Izuku said, the last thing he could manage before Shinsou's power snapped over him. "Not even close. _You're_ the one that doesn't understand."

"What a pleasant conversation," Shinsou said. Izuku pressed against the walls of his mind but found he'd lost control entirely. "Now do me a favor, Akatani, and walk outside of the boundaries."

The world seemed to tilt. Shift and change. Then Izuku landed back into the plane of reality, but there was something that wasn't quite _right._

This feeling…

He lost his breath when he glanced up. Shinsou was still there. So was the stadium, full of distant people.

Yet the world around him looked completely different, like someone had flipped a switch. And in front of him, dark shapes appeared in twisting smoke.

Fog clouded Izuku's mind. He took a step forward. Izuku's control over himself had dissipated; his limbs felt heavy and awkward as he took another step—closer to the boundaries, and closer to the strange figures that were before him.

"Walk outside of the boundaries." Shinsou's voice came again, but it echoed in the fog.

Some distant part of Izuku was screaming, clawing against the loss. This _fog_ , this _feeling_ like a dream, the _control_ … suddenly Izuku felt it was familiar and known to him. This wasn't just an effect of Shinsou's Quirk. He _remembered_ this, and it was different.

Worse, Izuku thought.

Izuku took another, slow step. So did the eight figures.

He'd seen them before, he thought. Izuku recognized them, in the same way one might meet family for the first time but know somehow, who they were. Like his heart was saying hello.

Half in the ring, half in the dream world, Izuku lifted a hand.

The figure in the center stepped forward. His edges were smoky, but Izuku could see his eyes glowing brightly.

 _Who are you,_ Izuku tried to say.

A shadowy hand touched his. Tangible. Real. Iridescent light jumped between where their fingertips touched, and Izuku felt the world shudder around him. He could feel the ground underneath him, steady and still, and understood that he was back in the real world.

The shadows began to fade, but the man in front of Izuku stayed a moment longer.

 _We_ are, he told Izuku.

Then he vanished.

Izuku found his vision replaced with the boundaries, drawn in white. His right foot moved forward, and when Izuku looked down at his hand, he saw One for All igniting across it.

His Quirk _burned_ in a way it had never before. Pain bloomed and pooled at the tips of Izuku's fingers, and the heat spread through Izuku's body as One for All fought against Shinsou's Quirk.

Millimeters away from the boundary line, Izuku stopped.

Turned.

Smiled.

"Impossible," Shinsou said, the light in his eyes flickering. Izuku went silent even as the noise around him grew in volume.

Izuku didn't waste any time. He tuned out Shinsou's taunts and went hard, crossing the ring in seconds and forcing Shinsou back further and further.

"I don't have a Quirk like yours," Shinsou yelled. Izuku ducked under his guard and hit Shinsou twice, fast, like he'd been taught. Shinsou brought his arms up; Izuku swept his feet out from under him. He got up.

"You were born to fight," Shinsou continued. Izuku gritted his teeth, hesitating. It was enough for Shinsou to catch him across the face hard, but Izuku didn't let up.

"I wasn't," Shinsou said, breathing heavily. He came in close, swinging.

Izuku caught his arm, shifting a foot back, and then threw his opponent bodily over his shoulder.

"Shinsou has been knocked out of boundaries. Akatani is the winner!"

Izuku stared down at Shinsou.

"You're wrong," Izuku told him.

"Akatani," Midnight said, "you'll be advancing to the next round. Both of you go see Recovery Girl if you need to."

Izuku shook his head. He looked at Shinsou a last time and then walked away.

"Akatani, wait."

Izuku cut him off before he could continue. "Why do you want to be a hero so badly, Shinsou?"

Shinsou blinked at him. "I can't help what I want."

"It's no use thinking of yourself as a villain," Izuku said shortly. "Your Quirk doesn't matter. You've got potential, if you'll use it."

He got a long, contemplative look back.

"Thanks, I guess," Shinsou said, "I'll make it to the Hero Course. Just wait. And don't lose too pitifully next round, Akatani."

Izuku grunted and made to leave. He was worried if they spent any more time talking that he'd snap and say something he'd regret. Izuku felt like a mess: angry and confused.

"Did you mean what you said?" Izuku asked, and the ugly words made anger bubble up in him. "About everything?"

"Did you?"

Izuku stared at Shinsou and then walked away.

"I guess we'll both have to figure that out for ourselves," he called over his shoulder.

Izuku didn't feel like returning to the stands, where inevitably he'd have to talk to his friends. He didn't want to. Izuku liked their company, but he felt like then he'd have to explain things to them.

So instead Izuku took a turn and went to the medical office, barging through the door and throwing himself onto an empty bed.

Recovery Girl poked him. "Hurt?"

Izuku rolled over. "Not badly."

She shoved him into a sitting position and looked him over.

"You're telling the truth this time, hm?" she asked, poking at one of his cuts. There was nothing more than a few scrapes, maybe a forming bruise or two. His fingers ached.

"My head hurts a bit," Izuku said, and she stopped, humming. He let her check his eyes dutifully. "I think it's just an aftereffect of fighting Shinsou, though."

"You seem fine," Recovery Girl confirmed, "which is good, considering you need all the brain cells you can get."

"Hey."

Toshinori poked his head through the door. A lanky body followed.

"That was a good fight," he complimented.

Izuku flopped back onto the bed, covering his face with his arm and groaning into it.

"Sure," he mumbled, "if you want to call it that. I don't think it was very impressive. It probably looked boring."

"You broke yourself free from Shinsou's Quirk. That's no small feat."

Izuku sat up, lighting jolting through him.

"I- I saw something, when he, when I was under his influence." Izuku looked around and saw no one else in the infirmary, but he lowered his voice anyway. "People. Figures. Eight of them."

"Eight…?"

"The wielders of One for All," Izuku said, "well, at least I think that's who they were."

"I see."

"He helped me," Izuku blurted. He didn't know why he needed to say it.

"It's alright," Toshinori said, "I used to see them, too, when I was younger. One for All is a difficult Quirk to understand, but I believe what we see are simply imprints, if you will, of the former users, from passing down the Quirk."

Izuku opened his mouth. Closed it.

"But," he said, then trailed off.

 _He spoke to me,_ Izuku wanted to say. _He was real._

"Don't worry about that now," Toshinori said, "because regardless of the imprints… it was you that summoned One for All, to break yourself free. You should go watch the rest of the matches."

"Yeah," Izuku said shakily, and tried again, "Yeah."

By the time Izuku returned to the stands, the next match was over. He walked out in time to see Sero frozen in ice, tape scattered. Todoroki had beaten him, but now he was standing next to the pillar of ice, slowly melting it with his fire.

Izuku searched along the stands to where most of the pro heroes were sitting and found Endeavor. Then he looked back to the hero's son. Seeing Todoroki slowly melt the ice until it disappeared only made him sad.

The first round passed by quickly. To Izuku's joint delight and disappointment, Shiozaki from Class 1-B took down Kaminari in the blink of an eye.

Iida's opponent was Hatsume, which Izuku wasn't sure about. Both were strong in their own right: Iida had a quite powerful Quirk, but Hatsume was challenging with her devices and support items.

The fight wasn't much of one. Izuku winced in sympathy as the two played cat-and-mouse; he couldn't say he was very surprised when Hatsume used the opportunity to show off her 'babies' before stepping out of bounds.

"Winner by default," Izuku muttered, hissing through his teeth. "Sorry, Iida."

Ashido tore through Aoyama's defenses to a cheering crowd in the fifth match. In the sixth, Izuku found himself pleasantly surprised when Tokoyami beat Yaoyorozu.

As interesting as they were to watch, Izuku found his attention straying during the matches. He couldn't stop thinking about his own match with Shinsou—everything his opponent had said, and the appearance of the previous holders of One for All.

Izuku scribbled a few notes down absentmindedly in code but eventually stopped writing and simply stared at the half-empty page.

Hisaishi was watching, Izuku suddenly remembered. Heroes weren't the only ones who watched the Sports Festival. The villains did, too, to see what they were up against.

"Sensei," Izuku whispered to himself as Midnight called for the next match.

Was Sensei—All for One—watching? Izuku could see the television screen in his mind, then his own reflection. Could All for One see this little dragon, wings flared?

In the ring below, light flashed.

Izuku was jolted back into reality as he watched Kacchan and Uraraka meet each other again and again. He watched Uraraka pick herself up, watched the two of them shine brilliantly like stars.

"Go," Izuku whispered, not sure who he was cheering for.

The fight ended as Izuku expected—Kacchan won. He hadn't gone easy on Uraraka at all, and she'd put up a tough fight.

After it was over, Izuku hesitated only for a moment before going down to see Uraraka. She'd wanted to win so badly. Her strategy had been good— _really,_ really good. Kacchan had only won through sheer firepower.

Izuku followed her back from the infirmary and was about to head into the waiting room when he heard her crying.

Izuku stopped outside the door, then carefully looked in and found his friend on the floor, knees drawn to her chest. Izuku swallowed hard and backed away. He wanted to go in, to talk to her, but… the truth was, Izuku wasn't sure what he'd say. She was strong. She was capable. Yet it hadn't been enough.

 _ **You 1:24 PM**_  
I'm proud of you.

It didn't feel like enough. Izuku resolved to talk to her again if he could, but he knew his time was short before his next match.

Izuku slowly shuffled away from the waiting room, intending to head back to the stands to the catch the match between Tetsutetsu and Kirishima.

"You," someone called.

Izuku stopped in the middle of the hallway. Endeavor walked towards him. He looked every bit the hero that Izuku remembered admiring, but suddenly Izuku could see an ugliness in him he'd never seen before.

"Endeavor," Izuku said coolly. "Excuse me, I have to prepare for my match."

"That's why I'm here," Endeavor said. He stepped closer, and the hair on the back of Izuku's neck raised. Izuku clenched his fists at his side and felt that deep pool of anger begin to rise again.

"I don't see what you have to do with my match," Izuku said.

"You're fighting my son."

"And?"

Endeavor's eyes flashed. "Watch your tone." He looked over Izuku, like he couldn't believe who he was talking to. "Your Quirk... from my understanding, it's one that could rival All Might's."

His distaste was clear. Izuku ground his teeth together.

"If you have nothing else to say to me, sir, I'll take my leave."

"I only wanted to ask you to give Shouto your best," Endeavor told him. "He is going to be the best hero. I don't want you to throw your match and disgrace him."

Izuku ran his tongue over his teeth and tried to pick his next words.

"It doesn't matter what you think," he said finally, and Endeavor reared back, eyes widening. "It's not your fight. It's mine and Todoroki's."

"I have no say?"

Izuku's lip curled. "Regardless of how similar my power may be to All Might's, I'm not him."

 _Be you,_ Toshinori had said. Izuku looked Endeavor in the eye.

"Todoroki isn't you, either." He bowed partly and then stepped around Endeavor to leave. "I think it would do you good to remember that."

Izuku stalked into the ring and found himself face-to-face with Todoroki.

"Take me seriously," he told Todoroki.

Todoroki blinked. "I will."

Todoroki wasn't going to use his fire. He'd told Izuku before that he refused to win with it. So it came as no surprise when the match began and ice immediately raced across the ground towards him.

Izuku watched it come calmly. He met Todoroki's eyes and then fired up One for All, blasting away the ice before it could reach him.

Then he dug his heels in for the long game.

A sheet of ice formed again. Izuku raced forward, One for All pulsing, and sent a blast of power right at Todoroki.

His opponent didn't let himself be taken out so easily, slamming back against a wall of ice.

Ice, again. Izuku gritted his teeth and shattered that, too.

"You're not taking me seriously, Todoroki," Izuku called. "You said you would."

"I am."

"You're _not!_ "

Izuku smashed through another wave of ice, but he'd gotten distracted. Todoroki raised a hand, and Izuku looked down to find ice creeping up his ankle. It shone like crystal in the sun and climbed higher, until Izuku was frozen in place.

He didn't have time to free himself and only barely brought up his defense when Todoroki attacked. Ice scraped past Izuku's cheek, so cold it burned, and something wet slid down his skin.

For some reason, it made Izuku angry.

He'd been angry before—at the world, at its unfairness, at Endeavor, at All for One, and at himself. But it was fury that sent One for All spiralling down into his fingertips, and it was fury that tore through the blast of ice and freed him.

Izuku held his broken index finger carefully as he shifted on his numb feet.

"Are you really here to be a hero?"

Todoroki only response was the crackle of ice.

"Answer me!" Izuku shouted. One for All surged through another finger.

"Why do I have to?" Todoroki asked. His eyes flickered to Izuku's hand; Izuku fired up Full Cowl again, dancing out of the way as Todoroki chased him.

"Because you're not acting like it."

A second later, Izuku had a hand balled in the front of Todoroki's suit, their faces close to each other. Izuku shoved him, then followed with a fist that sent Todoroki stumbling back.

He dropped Full Cowl and hit Todoroki again before he could form more ice. Izuku fought—dirty, like Bonestealer liked. He slammed a hard fist into Todoroki's side.

Frost formed on Izuku's arm. He ignored the numbness—Bonestealer had taught him that, too—and threw Todoroki over his shoulder.

"You haven't been listening to me," Izuku said, standing over him.

Todoroki shot up. Ice burst outwards from underneath his feet, but a flash of green lighting sent him sprawling.

"Are you listening now?"

"What do you want?" Todoroki bit out. He scrambled to his feet—Izuku was wearing him down, slowly, but if he let up, Todoroki was strong enough to win.

"You want to be number one?" Izuku shouted. He let Todoroki trap him. "You're aiming for the top and—what, you're only going to use half your power? What the _hell_ are you thinking?"

There. A spark of something. Frustration, maybe, or anger in Todoroki's face. Izuku let it fan his own raging fire and broke free again.

"Did my father put you up to this?" Todoroki yelled, chest heaving. "Is that what this is?"

"You're blind," Izuku said. Todoroki charged him again, but he was slow. Weaker than before.

Izuku flung him to the ground again.

"I'm going to ask you again," Izuku yelled, "are you going to be a hero or not, Todoroki?"

"Shut up!"

Izuku forced Todoroki backwards.

"I want to be a hero," Izuku said, pushing Todoroki back another step, "because I want to live up to All Might's expectations. So I can save people. So I can be a hero who helps people with a smile."

Another step.

"Is this what you think being a hero is?"

Another step. Izuku blocked Todoroki's half-hearted attempt at another wave of ice and felt a terrible and raw satisfaction when he hit Todoroki again.

"You're doing this, and you're not going to give it your all?" Izuku grabbed Todoroki, ignoring the ice, ignoring the pain, and shouted in his face. "You're doing that so you can disown your dad? Huh?"

He flung Todoroki down, next to the boundary line.

Close. Close. Close enough that Izuku could make one more move, and he'd win the match and move on.

It wasn't about winning, anymore. It wasn't about moving on. It was about facing someone who looked like him, who wouldn't give Izuku his all even though Izuku had _fought_ for it.

"Get up," Izuku said, "and fight me like you mean it. I saw your dad earlier, Todoroki. Do you want to know what I told him?"

Todoroki stared up at him. His gaze was sharp yet distant at the same time.

Izuku forged forward. "I told Endeavor that you aren't the same as him. It's not his Quirk, Todoroki. It's yours. It belongs to _you._ "

Todoroki got up.

Izuku was shaking. Exhaustion, anger, whichever one came first.

"I want to be a hero," Izuku told Todoroki, eyes burning.

Todoroki looked at Izuku like he'd never seen him before. Then something happened: fire burst forth, red and gold flames erupting from Todoroki's side, and he smiled.

"I want to be a hero, too," Todoroki said finally. Izuku grinned, and One for All sang as he called it up to the surface for the final time.

"Let's give it our all, Todoroki."

The two ran towards each other. Izuku sent a blast of pressure towards Todoroki, feeling One for All explode outwards.

"Stop! Stop the match!"

He couldn't. Ice raced towards him, followed by a raging inferno. Izuku braced himself, One for All crackling.

Izuku could win the match. He _could_ , he thought, the thrill of power racing through him. He was bright, brighter than any star. He could do it.

Time stopped. Just for a moment.

Just long enough for Izuku to see the flames bursting towards him. There were no shadowy figures. There were no reflections. But Izuku could taste the smoke, could see again that little square television and that smooth voice. He could see his father.

 _Little dragon,_ Sensei said in Izuku's mind.

He faltered.

Light. Heat. Weightlessness, like Izuku really had wings and was flying.

When Izuku blinked, he was on the ground, staring up at hazy clouds and wondering if they were smoke instead. He still felt like he was floating.

Distantly, Todoroki was announced the winner. Izuku found his feet and curled them underneath him, pushing himself up to stand. The world spun a bit, but Izuku steadied himself.

"Akatani," he heard, and Todoroki crossed the ring to grip Izuku's shoulder before he could fall again. "Thank you."

Izuku blinked at him. "That's what heroes do."

He was whisked away to the infirmary. Recovery Girl yelled at him, but Izuku couldn't quite focus on her words. He knew they were important. Izuku let them pass through his ears anyway. All he could think about was how tired he was.

"Are you listening to me?"

Izuku squinted at Recovery Girl.

"Not really," he mumbled back. "How bad is it?"

She pursed her lips. "Not as bad as it could be, but—"

Izuku suddenly spotted Toshinori behind her shoulder and reached out for him. His mentor took his hand.

"I'm sorry," Izuku said.

"Why did you do that?"

Izuku had to think about it. "He needed my help."

Recovery Girl huffed and smacked Toshinori's shoulder. "This is _your_ fault."

Toshinori searched Izuku's face, then said, "Your match was— an unfortunate outcome. As your mentor, I have to ask you not to do this again. You're going to hurt yourself beyond repair."

"Sorry," Izuku offered.

Toshinori squeezed Izuku's shoulder. "You did something today you should be proud of, though. I don't know exactly what young Todoroki struggles with, but you reached out to him… and he listened to you. That is one of the principal qualities of being a hero."

Izuku almost cried, but Recovery Girl interrupted the conversation before he could. "Are you done?"

She pinned them both with a look that could send any villain running. "Those injuries won't heal themselves."

The door burst open, and Izuku heard more than saw his friends' voices piling over each other. It made his chest fill with warmth.

It did not have the same effect on Recovery Girl. She whirled on them.

"Out! Get out! All of you, out!"

"Chiyo…"

"Enough," Recovery Girl said. She jabbed a finger in Toshinori's chest. "You've had your time. Now all of you leave!"

"I don't know why I'm still here," she grumbled once the room had cleared. "Now, you're going to miss the rest of the Festival—"

Izuku whined. She frowned at him.

"That's what you get. Your injuries aren't so terrible, but that does _not_ mean you can do this again, hear me? Stop smiling. If you're good, I might let you catch the end of the Festival."

"Copy that," Izuku said.

He ended up sleeping through the rest of the Festival, like Recovery Girl had told him. When he woke up again, the worst of his injuries were gone, left with only a few bandages tight against his skin.

"Don't do anything stupid," Recovery Girl warned him.

"Yes, ma'am."

She glared at him. Izuku smiled pleasantly back, but there was nothing Izuku could do. All of the fight had left him, draining away slowly until it was gone.

"Don't come back."

"Wouldn't dream of it," Izuku said, sighing. He made his way out of the infirmary and watched the awards ceremony from the edges.

Kacchan had placed first. It made Izuku proud to see him there, but his childhood friend didn't seem very pleased about it. Todoroki was second, and Izuku smiled when he saw Tokoyami in third.

All Might appeared to give the winners their medals. Izuku watched him speak quietly to each person and found himself relieved he hadn't won after all. Up there, there was no hiding.

"Everyone here had a strong chance of making it to this podium," All Might said, and his voice echoed around the entire stadium. The Sports Festival was ending; Izuku, unnoticed, began to slip away. "It makes me proud to stand here having seen every student put forth their best effort, and I want to congratulate you on your incredible work."

Out on the street, Izuku could still hear his mentor's words. He'd already changed out of his clothes in the infirmary, but now Izuku fit a hoodie over his head. The crosswalk he'd been waiting at turned green. Izuku followed the lines and continued forward.

He paused on the street corner and looked back.

Distantly, Izuku heard the echoes of All Might's voice chasing him.

"The next generation of heroes looks bright."

Izuku nodded slowly to himself, then stuck his hands in his pockets and began to take his path away from the winner's circle.

* * *

 **END: PART ONE**

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	22. Chapter 22

**Flare Signal** _  
interlude ii_

* * *

The window was latched.

Katsuki knocked against the glass, being careful about the grocery bags hanging heavy on his wrists. _You there?_

He didn't expect a response. Hadn't had one for years.

Sighing, Katsuki went around to the front, pulling out the extra set of keys Auntie Inko had given him and letting himself in.

"Katsuki, dear? Is that you?"

He kicked the door shut behind him. "Yeah."

Auntie Inko emerged from the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron. She smiled when she saw him. The light behind her was golden and soft.

"You didn't have to," she said when she saw the groceries he'd brought. Katsuki rolled his eyes, stalking past her into the kitchen and beginning to unload.

"You say that every time," he tossed over his shoulder, opening the fridge door.

"Will you stay for dinner?"

He grunted. When he finished tossing the groceries in the fridge, he looked up to see Auntie Inko leaning on the counter, watching him.

"What," Katsuki snapped, and she shook her head, turning back to finish doing the dishes.

"Thank you, Katsuki."

"Whatever," he muttered. Katsuki stuck his hands in his pockets as he made his way down the hall to the right door and pushed inwards. The room inside always looked different from the view through the window—brighter, and more real.

He rapped his knuckles against the doorframe and then crossed the room to sit on the bed. It dipped under his weight, then groaned when he flopped onto his back to stare at the ceiling. He sat up again, reaching blindly for the lamp on the bedside table, and watched a cold light paint the room.

Auntie Inko had cleaned the room again in the past week, it seemed. There was no dust, and the two action figures on the desk had reversed positions.

"I brought you something," Katsuki said. God, he hated the sound of his own voice; things felt like they never came out right. He hated talking like this, too. It was stupid, but Katsuki hadn't ever been able to make himself stop.

"Here," he said roughly, pulling the gold medal from his pocket. The light hit it, and it shone. The number _one_ glinted, taunting him, and he growled, throwing the medal onto the desk with more force than he needed.

"Fucking Half-n-Half," he growled.

 _What,_ Deku would've said, eyes innocent, _you don't even know his name, Kacchan?_

"Fuck you." Katsuki cut himself off before he could say anything else and sound like a complete idiot. Then, because he couldn't help himself, "And it's Todoroki."

Just thinking about him made Katsuki mad.

Sure, there were plenty of people who made him mad, like Kaminari, who'd almost fried his phone to death the other day. But Todoroki made him _angry_ in a way no one had in a while.

He'd come waltzing in on his dad's recommendation? Fine. Katsuki could care less about recommendations; they didn't matter unless you couldn't prove yourself.

He had shitty parents and wanted to beat them into the ground? Good. Katsuki would enjoy the show.

He'd made it to the final round, had given Akatani of all people his all, and then he'd refused to do the same for Katsuki?

 _That_ made Katsuki's skin crawl.

Katsuki hadn't won, no matter what pretty words All Might tried to say and no matter what Auntie Inko had told him. That wasn't winning. It'd felt like Todoroki had spit at his feet, a specific _fuck-you_ just for Katsuki, when Todoroki had looked at him from across that ring and given up.

It made his skin crawl. It made his blood boil under his skin. It made him seethe with anger. Katsuki would've been mad if Todoroki had beaten him, but he would've been mad at himself, not the other way around.

He stood, and the gold medal flashed. Katsuki slammed the lamp off and stalked out of the room, leaving in a worse mood than he'd come in.

Auntie Inko was setting up the dining table when Katsuki made his reappearance. She didn't bat an eye when he stormed into the room, only handing him a plate of bok choy and telling him not to break anything.

"You're all over the news," she commented mildly after they'd sat down to eat. She put a piece of chashu in his bowl. "Eat more, dear."

Katsuki grumbled around a mouthful of rice. "We just started."

"I can't eat all of this myself," she told him. She hummed, looking down at herself and frowning. "I have put on quite a bit though, hm?"

"So what," Katsuki said.

"Anyway," Auntie Inko continued, a bit red in the face, "I said this, but I'm proud of you."

"Don't cry."

"I couldn't stop crying when you were in the last round."

Katsuki stabbed the piece of bok choy and shoved it in his mouth. "Stupid…"

"He put up a good fight, didn't he?"

Katsuki set down his chopsticks and dug his nails into his palms.

"Wasn't a fight."

Auntie Inko stopped eating. She set down her chopsticks, too, then pushed her bowl away so she could study him. It took a minute, but he finally cracked.

"It should've been Deku," he admitted, and he hated how sorry that sounded. Then he caught the look in her soft eyes and hated what he'd said even more. "Don't— don't cry."

She reached across the table for a napkin and dabbed at her eyes.

"Sorry, I… you know I don't mean to…"

"He didn't even fucking _try_ ," Katsuki snapped, staring at the edge of the table. "Deku would've done anything just to have that chance. And Todoroki had it, and he threw it away."

"Sometimes," Auntie Inko said, "people have different reasons for what they do. I doubt that your classmate thought about that match the same way you did."

Katsuki scowled.

She tugged at his hands and then curled her fingers around them. "Maybe you're more similar than you believe."

He snorted. "Sure."

"People surprise you."

"I'm not making _friends_ with him, auntie."

"Katsuki…"

He made a low sound in his throat. "I know, I _know_ , make friends, blah blah, be kinder, whatever else you say."

Auntie Inko's nose scrunched up, and she was frowning when she said, "You have to try."

"I'm _trying._ "

Some of his classmates were tolerable. At U.A., no one uselessly fawned over him. None of the other kids worshipped the ground he walked on, and Katsuki liked it. They weren't afraid to snap back.

Akatani was one of them. Something had clicked between the two of them; Katsuki didn't like it, or understand it. Sometimes he looked at Akatani and saw someone else standing there instead. Sometimes Akatani looked at _him_ like Katsuki was someone he knew.

"It's good you're trying," Auntie Inko said. She drew her rice bowl back. "The food is getting cold— here, eat."

Katsuki grumbled, but ate obligingly. They continued in silence, just the two of them sitting at a table a chair too big.

"Won't you stay a little longer?" Auntie Inko asked when Katsuki made to leave. They'd cleared the dishes together in an easy routine, quietly talking the entire time. Now Katsuki slung his jacket over his shoulders and pulled his hands through the sleeves as Auntie Inko wrung her hands, watching.

"I gotta go."

Auntie Inko bit her lip. He didn't know why she was looking at him like that, like Katsuki was hurting her, but she dropped her gaze to the floor. She looked like she was going to cry again—he hated that.

"Are you sure?"

Her bottom lip was trembling, and Katsuki could see the gleam of tears in her eyes. She was trying to hide it, clasping her hands together to keep them from shaking.

"Why d'you want my company?"

She wrapped her arms around herself as Katsuki turned away to put on his shoes, and said, "Because you're all I have left of him."

Katsuki stopped, hand halfway to the doorknob.

Then he turned back and slowly took off his shoes again.

Katsuki would never admit to anyone that it hurt when he looked at her. Auntie Inko, standing alone in her apartment, eyes asking him not to go. Bathed in sickly, overcast light, and smaller than he remembered her to be. She'd always seemed to fill up a room when he was a kid, always hovering and smiling and worrying. Now Katsuki realized how little space she took up, and how he hadn't heard her laugh in a long time.

"Alright," he said, "Alright, whatever, I'll stay."

Auntie Inko darted forward and dragged him into a hug. Katsuki stiffened when she locked her hands around him, but he relaxed after a moment and lifted a hand to place on her back.

Katsuki didn't have anything better to do, anyway. They put on an old All Might documentary, and Katsuki talked the entire time about the parts they didn't show: All Might's over-dramatic entrances, the way he laughed when one of his students told him jokes, and how he'd affixed 'young' to all of their names. Auntie Inko didn't laugh, but her eyes got a little brighter. That was enough for now.

As the noise from the television faded into the background, Katsuki cautiously dropped his head onto Auntie Inko's shoulder. She lifted a hand and slipped her fingers through his hair, again and again until the last of the tension left him.

"Do you think," Katsuki said slowly, "that Deku would like the person I've become?"

In the way they were positioned, the two of them couldn't quite look at each other. Katsuki felt her breathe, shoulder lifting and then dropping again.

"Of course he would."

Auntie Inko shifted underneath him. "Katsuki, where you are right now... you're fulfilling your dream. That would make him incredibly happy to see."

"Doesn't always feel like it."

"Trust me," Auntie Inko said, "a mother knows."

Katsuki hummed and then drew himself out, tilting his neck from side to side to get the crook out.

"I'm going to get some water, I think," Auntie Inko said. She peered over at him. "Would you like a glass?"

"I'm good," Katsuki said. He stretched.

Auntie Inko shuffled off to the kitchen. Katsuki went to the television and retrieved the DVD she'd put on, tucking it back into its case and fitting it neatly among the others.

There was a crash from the kitchen. Katsuki's heart leapt in his chest; he was moving before he had even realized, vaulting over the couch and then crossing the last few steps to the kitchen in long strides.

Auntie Inko was crouched on the ground. At her feet were the shattered pieces of what had been a glass of water; when Katsuki took a cautious step forward, the light reflected off the different shards. Water was slowly pooling and spreading outwards.

Katsuki's throat closed off. Auntie Inko turned towards him with red-rimmed eyes. Her hands fluttered uselessly above the broken glass. When she saw him frozen in the doorway she dropped her face into her hands and wept.

Katsuki knew that for a split-second she'd expected to see Deku here instead. It happened all the time, even now. Katsuki would glance left, words on his tongue, and then realize there was no one there.

Deku would've known what to do, he thought numbly. Deku, who was as patient as he was kind, two qualities Katsuki had never had. Deku, whose smiles came just as easily as his tears. Except he wasn't here—it was just Katsuki, useless and never good enough.

He couldn't even bring himself to speak. Katsuki went to the bathroom and retrieved a broom. When he returned, Auntie Inko was still where he'd left her.

Katsuki mopped at the spill carefully and caught all the pieces of glass he could. There was something strange and somber about the scene: the soft scraping as glass slid across tile, the shine of the water, every sharp breath Auntie Inko took.

When he'd gotten the worst of it, Katsuki knelt on the ground and began to pick at the pieces of glass he'd missed. He took a shard, and pain laced across his palm.

He dropped the piece again, hissing. Blood followed a moment later.

Stupid. He'd cut himself.

Weathered hands pressed a kitchen towel between his fingers. Auntie Inko made him hold it to the cut, and then left. He didn't have to wait long before she came back, armed with a first aid kit.

The cut stung when she led him to the kitchen sink and washed his hand clean, making sure there wasn't any glass left. It hurt, but Auntie Inko's touch was gentle as she wrapped his hand.

Katsuki cleared his throat, but his _thank you_ didn't make it out. He lifted his other hand instead and wiped at Auntie Inko's tears, swiping a thumb under her eyes. She caught his wrist, still gentle, and squeezed.

They cleaned the rest of the mess together. Katsuki leaned against the counter when it was all done and thought that despite the incident, it looked like nothing had ever happened at all.

From this angle he could see a little All Might figure standing next to the stove, tucked in a safe corner.

"I," Katsuki said, balking when the emptiness swallowed his words.

"…I thought I knew what kind of hero I wanted to be," he said. "I was going to win every fight and beat every villain. Like All Might."

That hadn't changed, not really. He still liked winning.

That hadn't changed, but Katsuki had.

He thought about Deku. Thought about All Might. Thought about the medal he'd left in Deku's room, a hollow victory that hadn't meant anything. He didn't want a win like that.

Katsuki shifted his hand back, and pain prickled along his palm. Long before he'd promised himself he'd be a hero no matter what, long before any of this, Deku had stood over him in rippling water and offered Katsuki a hand up.

He hadn't taken it.

"What kind of hero do you want to be, now?"

Katsuki thought about it. He wanted wins that counted. He wanted to surpass All Might, at the top.

Then he remembered how he'd felt, sweeping away the broken glass on the kitchen floor and picking it up piece by piece. He wanted to be that kind of hero, too.

"One that matters," Katsuki told her.

Auntie Inko touched his cheek. "I'm cheering for you."

Katsuki didn't feel like leaving the Midoriya household, so he stayed the night. Auntie Inko had washed the sheets in Deku's room only a few days ago, keeping his room clean the way she liked to.

They stood together in Deku's room for a minute, reminiscing. Auntie Inko pointed out the pictures of him and Deku that were still pinned above his desk.

"Things were a lot simpler then," Auntie Inko said as he dropped into Deku's bed, just like he used to. She tucked the blanket over him and smiled. "Goodnight, Katsuki."

The light clicked off. Auntie Inko shuffled around in the dark for a moment, lingering over something he couldn't see, and then left. A distant electric hum eased him into the soft darkness, and Katsuki fell asleep in a room full of childhood dreams.

When Katsuki next woke, he blinked at the sunlight streaming through the unfamiliar window. It took him a second to place where he was; he sat up slowly and wondered how much of what he remembered had been a dream.

He studied the room, lit now in a morning glow. All Might grinned widely at him from posters on the wall.

 _The next generation of heroes looks bright_ , he'd said.

His gaze settled on a patch of glowing light above Deku's desk. Katsuki slid his feet over the edge of the bed, standing, and he realized the glimmer he was seeing was a reflection.

As he stumbled closer on stiff feet, Katsuki reached blindly into his pocket for his wallet, pulling out the worn photo he kept there.

Taped to the wall, the same photo stared back at him: _Pro Heroes Kacchan and Deku to the Rescue_. His younger self was smiling, and Katsuki looked at the loop of Auntie Inko's handwriting and let himself smile back.

And there, pinned next to the photo, the medal glistened gold.


	23. Chapter 23

**Flare Signal** _  
chapter twenty-three_

* * *

The apartment door clicked quietly when Izuku eased it open, slipping inside and quickly shutting it behind him.

At once Izuku knew he wasn't alone. Just past the entryway, he spotted a tall figure standing with his back to the door, voice rising and falling as he spoke. When Izuku peered around the corner, he drew back with a sharp hiss. The Dragon had company—Miss Guidance.

Izuku clamped a hand over his mouth and pressed himself flat against the wall, thankful the entryway offered cover. He'd hardly been looking forward to seeing his father, much less any of the other Chimera members.

Izuku made to slip out the door again when he heard his father speak.

"You're asking me questions I don't have the answer to."

"You don't understand, Dragon—"

A low growl. Izuku flinched. "Don't pretend to care about my son. You took very little interest in him before, and I find it _strange_ that you're so interested in him now. He's _my_ son."

"His performance at the Sports Festival—"

Izuku slid downwards, squeezing his eyes shut tightly.

"—is of no concern of yours."

Footsteps. "He needs to stay under _our_ control, Hisashi. You _know_ he's growing more powerful. He's been complacent enough, but sooner or later he's going to fight back." Miss Guidance paused. Her voice shifted into something softer and sweeter, charged with an underlying power. "Give him to me. I can—"

"No."

"Why are you refusing to listen to me?"

The creak of the floorboards. Hisashi's voice came low and dangerous.

"You are throwing away everything I've built for the League."

" _I_ am making Chimera even more powerful than before. We can do more with them. We can do everything…"

"Miss Guidance."

"I _need_ Izuku."

Hisashi snarled his displeasure. Izuku heard the faint hiss of fire and flinched back, gasping. He slipped back towards the door, hands shaking.

"Don't play your tricks on me," his father growled. Izuku's heart thudded in his chest. "And you will not use your Quirk on my son."

Izuku stopped.

Her _Quirk_ …?

"You're being foolish," Miss Guidance spat, but Izuku heard her heels click against the floor. He threw himself backwards silently, fumbling for the door and standing up straight when he couldn't get it open.

In the entryway, Miss Guidance paused when she saw him.

"Miss Guidance," Izuku said, voice lifting in false surprise.

A cool gaze flicked over him. The gold flecks in her eyes seemed brighter than they had before.

"Izuku," Miss Guidance said. Her voice was low; she looked at him the way a hunter might look at its prey. A shiver went down his spine.

"Excuse me," she said after a moment. Heart hammering in his throat, Izuku moved to the side as she opened the door, then left.

"Izuku?"

Izuku swallowed.

"Father," Izuku said, stepping in.

Hisashi was in the center of the living room. Smoke curled around his face. Izuku could smell the thick scent of burnt fabric now he was closer—so Miss Guidance hadn't escaped unscathed, it seemed.

Hisashi considered him for a moment. What scared Izuku the most was that Izuku couldn't read him. His face wasn't blank, exactly, but Izuku wasn't sure if Hisashi was pleased or not. His instincts screamed for him to run, but Izuku forced himself to take another trembling step forwards.

Hisashi held out a hand.

Unable to disobey, Izuku walked until they were standing within an arm's distance of each other.

"I think you have something to explain to me."

Izuku swallowed. Hisashi blinked at him slowly, eyes glinting. Izuku dipped his head.

"I— I do."

"You've been hiding something from me, Izuku."

Izuku swallowed again. He shut his eyes briefly, but not long enough for Hisashi to catch.

"Father," Izuku said carefully. Sweat made the back of his shirt cling to his neck. Hisashi waited patiently. "I've been thinking about Chimera. And… about being who you want me to be."

 _Easy, easy._

"You have a responsibility," Hisashi said. "This is in your blood."

Izuku dropped his gaze. "I know. That's why— that's why I..."

 _A shadowed locker room. Izuku slipped inside, unnoticed, and found the locker he was looking for—Hatsume's. He picked the lock, cracked open the case inside, and began to search._

"Here," Izuku said, pulling out a set of gloves from his hoodie pocket and holding them out for Hisashi to see. Panic rose in him as Hisashi took them, but Izuku pressed it down. Forced it down—he just had to make Hisashi believe him. That would be enough.

"From the Support Department at U.A. You told me that I was going to inherit Chimera, but... both of us know that my Quirk isn't—"

— _isn't suited for this line of work_ , Izuku thought. Hatsume had shown him the gloves she'd designed as they'd been planning during the Cavalry Battle; Izuku knew at once their potential.

So despite his better judgement, Izuku had taken them.

"I had them designed and built," Izuku said. "They're Powerlet gloves. They can produce wind blasts."

That was a lie. The Powerlet gloves were only a prototype, and they certainly weren't able to do what Izuku said they could. It was a risk, but Izuku had no other choice.

Unless, of course, he wanted Hisashi to know about One for All. It wasn't like the Quirk was a closely guarded secret and Izuku's father was a villain or anything.

Hisashi examined the gloves.

"I needed a way to make myself stronger," Izuku said, and he was surprised at how clearly the words left him. "I needed to make sure I could fight amongst the heroes... and against them."

He held his breath. When Hisashi looked at him, Izuku met his gaze coolly.

"Really," Hisashi said.

Izuku nodded slowly. "I think… I think you're right," he choked out, "I don't belong at U.A."

It was the truest thing he'd told Hisashi yet.

"Izuku," Hisashi said, holding out his hand with the gloves. Izuku reached out to take them back, not daring to hope, but Hisashi wrapped his hands around Izuku's.

Deep breath in.

"...Father?"

Hisashi's eyes glowed like coal, a spot of darkness ringed with the fire in his gaze.

"When you were young," Hisashi said slowly, "you always wanted to be a hero."

"Yes," Izuku said softly. He pulled back a hand and settled it over his pounding heart. "Not anymore."

"I knew you would make the right decision eventually. I knew _it_ would claim you, too."

"It," Izuku repeated.

Hisashi released him. Izuku drew his hands and the gloves back, pocketing them.

"This," Hisashi said, gesturing around them. Smoke drifted as he spoke. "This path we follow is chosen for us. No matter how hard you fight, you will always find yourself walking it."

Izuku dropped his gaze. Hisashi put a hand on his shoulder and drew Izuku into a hug.

"Izuku," Hisashi murmured, voice tender. " _Izuku._ "

Izuku shut his eyes. Hisashi carded his fingers through Izuku's hair, just once, then rested a warm palm on the back of Izuku's neck for a moment.

Izuku felt tears prick at the corners of his eyes at the warmth, at the gentle touch. He wanted to pretend it was real. And though Izuku loathed himself for it, he felt his chest blossom, petals unfurling and turning towards a patch of light that had broken through.

A short beep. Hisashi used one hand to check his phone.

"I have matters to attend to tonight," Hisashi told him. He paused, then let go of Izuku. "There's been some… disagreements lately."

Izuku ran his tongue over his teeth.

"With… with Miss Guidance?" he dared to ask.

Hisashi frowned.

"Some," he said shortly, and Izuku knew that was the most information he was going to get. "And with the League."

"The _League?_ But—"

This was the first time Izuku had heard anything about conflict between Chimera and the League. The last time he'd checked, the League had seemed perfectly happy about using Izuku for their own means. More than happy, even.

Hisashi's eyes darkened. Izuku studied his father's face and realized then how similar they looked—how similar Izuku had _made_ himself look to his father. How he'd turned Mom's eyes into glimmering bits of coal, how their noses sloped the same way.

It scared him.

"Stay home," Hisashi said. He cupped Izuku's jaw, and then his hand fell away. "I'll be back soon. I want to talk to you."

Hisashi was always leaving. Always, always leaving.

Hisashi's phone beeped again with another message. He growled at whatever he was reading on the screen, but pushed past Izuku and stalked towards the door.

Izuku didn't bother saying goodbye. The slam of the door was enough for him.

Once Hisashi was gone, Izuku fell onto the couch face-first and groaned. The fabric smelled faintly of smoke; Izuku rolled off and landed on the ground, covering his face with his arms.

He eventually dragged himself to his room, running through the motions. Izuku had wanted desperately to be alone, but now that he was, his exhaustion hit him like a truck.

Izuku still couldn't quite believe that only a few hours ago he'd been at the Sports Festival, blood roaring in his ears. He'd clawed and fought against his peers, had stumbled into the spotlight and then tried to step back into the shadows. It was too late, though. Everyone had seen him.

He felt like he was still wading through a dream. That any moment now Izuku would close his eyes and reopen them, and the Sports Festival would be gone.

Izuku didn't know how he was supposed to feel. He didn't even know how he felt—only that the Sports Festival had given him something, but had taken more. The Festival had washed his secrets in bright light.

Izuku went to his closet and slid out the panel he'd cut in the back, reaching into the wall where he'd stored his things. The box of All Might figurines came out again, and Izuku took a mini-All Might and clutched him tightly.

 _Mom…_

"Would you be proud of me?" Izuku asked. He turned All Might over in his hands, looking at the brightly-colored paint. "Would you be proud of what I've become?"

He thought he knew the answer. Izuku didn't like it, but he also thought he'd deserve it if the answer was no.

Izuku wiped at his eyes roughly and put the figurine on his desk. Then he put the box away again into its hiding space and retrieved the notebook he'd brought to the Sports Festival, pulling his chair back and dropping heavily into it.

He glanced at the All Might figurine and regretted taking it out. The little painted eyes stared right through Izuku. He moved it further away, but Izuku could still feel the weight of All Might's legacy—of the legacy of the wielders of One for All. Izuku touched his ribs and remembered that they were there with him. That he'd seen them, if only briefly.

On a fresh page, Izuku began to jot down everything he remembered about the strange encounter he'd had in the midst of his fight with Shinsou. When he'd done that, he read over the page again, memorizing it. Hisashi would hopefully never find out what Izuku was really keeping from him - what must have been a centuries-old secret entrusted to Izuku.

Izuku flipped through the other pages of the notebook. Most of it was a hurried mess; Izuku winced at some of the indecipherable writing and decided that he'd have to take the time to rewrite them when he could.

"One for All," Izuku murmured, turning back to the page he'd written. "All for One."

Did Sensei know? Did All for One know?

Did he know that this little dragon held a power he wanted?

Sensei had never spoken about One for All, not really. Nor had All Might spoken about All for One. Yet Izuku knew that if the villain ever found out that he had One for All, he'd do whatever it took to have it.

Izuku put away the notebook, scrubbing at his eyes. He needed sleep. Just a few hours, and Izuku would be able to think straight again. He'd made a mistake at the Sports Festival, showing himself like that—now he needed to fix it.

Izuku's body thanked him when he crawled into his bed, sinking into the mattress and under the soft, thick blanket. All of his injuries were gone, thanks to Recovery Girl, but Izuku could still feel his muscles aching from the fighting.

In bed, Izuku found out just how tired he actually felt. He was always tired, but after today especially so. Izuku thought that maybe he could sleep for a week—at least, if Izuku was dreaming, he wouldn't have to think about the complete disaster he'd made for himself.

Yet sleep eluded Izuku. He rolled under the covers, restless despite the rest of his body begging for him to give in.

Izuku couldn't turn his brain off—he kept running every interaction he'd had with Sensei. Over and over again. Over and over and over, the words and the images flickering behind his eyelids like the staticy television. Whenever Izuku closed his eyes, he could hear that voice again. He wanted to forget it, but Izuku didn't think he'd ever be able to.

He rolled over again and screamed into his pillow. Then Izuku got up, groaning. There wasn't any point in trying to sleep tonight, not if all Izuku was going to do was worry.

Izuku decided he'd take a walk. Maybe even a quick jog around the block—that was always good, exercising.

A thought formed. Izuku took care to adjust his appearance, shoveling his black hair into submission and finding a pair of contacts to change his eye color. He covered his freckles again and then threw on a jacket, heading out.

Izuku was careful as he left his room, first pressing his ear to the door to listen. Hisashi didn't seem to be home, though it must've been at least a few hours since he'd left. He probably wouldn't be back for a while yet, if he was going to be back at all.

Villains. They liked to take their time.

Izuku put in his earbuds after leaving the apartment. Present Mic's voice buzzed happily in Izuku's ears as he headed in the direction of the studio again. He hadn't been there in months, not since the night he'd met All Might. It would be nice, Izuku thought, to go back.

Between songs, Present Mic crowed happily about the Sports Festival. He talked about his favorite moments, which ended up practically being the entire Sports Festival. Izuku felt strange every time his own name came up.

Present Mic's show was popular tonight—no doubt riding on the high of the Sports Festival. Present Mic had, of course, been the announcer and was a U.A. teacher. The listener calls and questions poured in, excited fans asking about a student's Quirk or parents sharing how proud they were of their children. Izuku smiled bitterly as he listened.

To Present Mic's credit, he was careful in divulging information about his students. Izuku bit his lip when his own Quirk came up, but Present Mic fielded the question well. The last thing Izuku needed was more attention thanks to the popular radio host.

He finally made it to the studio, hauling himself up the side of the building with a little help from One for All after checking he was out of sight. Izuku found a nice spot and then laid down, staring up at the dark sky.

After a minute, he got up and paced the length of the building roof, though he made sure not to get too close to the edge lest anyone look up. Music floated through his ears. Izuku took his shoes off and felt the cold under his feet, felt the surface ground him.

It had all started here, really. The moment that Izuku had dared to let himself hope.

A soft, not-silent-enough _thud_ had Izuku whirling around, hand leaping to the knife at his side.

Eraserhead blinked at him. Izuku stared back.

It took a second, but Eraserhead seemed to place who he was.

"Mirage," Eraserhead said.

"Uh," Izuku said, dropping his voice. He pulled one of his earbuds out. "Hi, Eraserhead. Nice night."

He wanted to smack himself. That had to be the dumbest thing Izuku could've said.

Eraserhead stayed where he'd landed, not moving any closer. Maybe he was worried that Izuku would run away, like he'd done last time.

"What are you doing here?"

Izuku cleared his throat. Eraserhead looked at him carefully, and Izuku backed up a step but sat down, nodding to let his teacher know that he wasn't going to run just yet.

It probably wasn't smart to stay. It was better to leave again, head back, back to the empty apartment that smelled like smoke…

"Do I have to have an ulterior motive?" Izuku asked. He snorted. "I guess I am a villain."

"Hey," Eraserhead said sharply. His hand jerked forward, then back.

Izuku shrugged. He pointed at his forehead. "Just wanted to get out of here."

Eraserhead slowly took a seat, crossing his legs over each other.

"I could use some company," Izuku said. He decided he didn't want to look at Eraserhead and laid down again, folding his hands over his stomach. "Just for a little while."

"I haven't seen you."

"Maybe," Izuku said.

"You're alright?"

"...Maybe," Izuku said.

"I wanted to thank you."

Izuku squinted at the sky. Present Mic continued to speak in one ear, but Izuku took his remaining earbud out so he could think.

"For what?"

"You warned me about USJ."

Izuku coughed. "I hear that didn't help much, huh?"

Eraserhead shuffled closer. Izuku turned his head to look at him.

"You saved my students. They could have been killed there. They weren't."

"I saw the Sports Festival," Izuku blurted, uncomfortable. "Your students… your students will make good heroes, I think."

He smiled at Eraserhead. "They have a good teacher."

Eraserhead grunted. He looked tired, too. Izuku wondered what he was thinking.

"Being a teacher is probably similar to being a hero, huh," Izuku pondered. "You get to reach a lot of people and help them."

"Will you let me help you?"

Izuku played with his hands. He thought about what Hisashi said—that the path of a villain was inevitable. That Izuku could fight every day of his life and he'd circle back to that shadowed trail in the woods.

Maybe some things couldn't be helped.

For now, at least, they could be made better. A little bit.

"Just… stay here a little longer," Izuku said quietly. A small comfort Izuku could take. The worries could begin anew tomorrow.

Izuku would have this first, staying with Eraserhead. One day at a time. One day at a time. That was just how he'd have to take it. Izuku wrapped himself in the temporary feeling of safety and held out one more day.


	24. Chapter 24

**Flare Signal** _  
chapter twenty-four_

* * *

Izuku waited in darkness.

He blinked, though it didn't help, and felt the dark fabric press against his skin. He'd never been blindfolded in a fight before, and it kept Izuku on edge, waiting for something to happen.

To his right, the creak of a floorboard. Izuku raised an arm and managed to block the attack, but he didn't expect the fist to the ribs and curled inwards, gasping.

"You need to pay attention."

Izuku swung in the direction of Bonestealer's voice but hit nothing. He spun when he thought he heard Bonestealer move, staying on defense.

"Your performance at the Sports Festival was awful," Bonestealer continued. Izuku gritted his teeth.

A shift of fabric. A step. Izuku leapt forward, blade in hand, and brought his hand down.

He heard the impact of Bonestealer leaping back and chased after it. Izuku's knife arced down again, his hand sure, and he felt the resistance when it cut through something.

Not skin, not quite, but fabric.

Bonestealer came in close quicker than Izuku anticipated, hearing two quick steps. The knife dropped from his hand when Bonestealer wrenched his wrist to the side. With his opponent gripping him, Izuku tried to strike now that he had an anchor. But Bonstealer got to him first, sweeping his legs out from underneath him and pinning Izuku to the ground.

Fabric pulled across his face. Izuku blinked at the sudden light and found Bonestealer holding the tip of Izuku's own knife to his throat.

"You're improving," Bonestealer admitted, and pulled back. Izuku sat up. "But not enough."

They'd been training like this, taking away Izuku's sight so he'd be forced to rely on his other senses. It kept him sharp, except it had been less like Izuku practicing and more like Bonestealer using him as a punching bag.

"I'm never enough for you," Izuku said.

Bonestealer stood. They tossed the knife next to Izuku, and he grabbed it, wrapping his hand around the worn and familiar handle.

"Hisashi thought you were finally ready," they said, and Izuku blinked up at them, "but _I_ think you're far from it."

They jerked their head towards the door. "Almost time for you to leave."

Izuku picked himself back up and left. Bonestealer was right; he had a little over thirty minutes to get ready for school. Izuku groaned, returning to the apartment. Hisashi glanced at Izuku when he rushed past, throwing papers and notebooks into his backpack.

He checked his phone, scrolling through the alerts, and then stopped.

The headlines were everywhere.

Izuku's throat burned as he clicked link after link after link. His time was running short, but he couldn't stop scrolling, his fingers numb.

 _Hero Killer in Hosu._

 _LOCAL HERO HOSPITALIZED AFTER VILLAIN ATTACK._

 _VIDEO: Hero Killer._

 _YOUNG HERO CAREER CUT SHORT_

He kept going, eyes flickering over the articles that were sandwiched between reviews of the Sports Festivals and gossip columns.

 _During the U.A. Sports Festival, the hero-killer Stain made another move in Hosu at beloved local hero Ingenium…_

 _After last month, the Hero Killer has returned again on the day of the U.A. Sports Festival. A spokesperson for the Hosu City Police has spoken about this, saying that it is no mere coincidence…_

 _The bright young hero Ingenium's career has suddenly and violently been cut short…_

Izuku threw the phone down. It landed on his bed, bouncing once before settling face-up, taunting him. Izuku glared at the bright screen and whirled away, stomping to the bathroom.

"Iida…"

Hosu. The hero-killer. Hadn't he _known?_ Hadn't Izuku _known?_

He hadn't seen Iida after his fight with Hatsume. His friend must've known then, while Izuku had been blissfully unaware, too caught up in his own selfishness that he hadn't thought to seek out his friend or to check…

"I'm sorry," Izuku said. He kicked at the rim of the bathtub, and his toes burst with pain. "I'm sorry I-"

It was like everything he'd told Todoroki had been a lie. Izuku wasn't a hero. He wasn't even smiling. He thought furiously for a moment that he could take the day off - he'd given his night to Eraserhead, taking comfort in a companion. Not at all realizing or knowing what had happened, that Iida must have been alone, hurting.

Izuku knew what that felt like. He wouldn't wish it on his enemies and certainly not on one of his friends.

But staying home was selfish, too, no matter how tired Izuku was. So Izuku fixed his appearance the best he could, wiping at his red eyes and poking at his sallow skin. He hadn't gotten much sleep lately either. The danger had just barely passed with Hisashi, but he hadn't heard from Shigaraki or anything about the League, and it kept him on edge. With Bonestealer's training and Izuku's restless mind, he'd stayed up late into the night and early mornings.

Izuku swept past the kitchen, grabbing an apple off the counter. He'd eat on the way.

"Izuku," Hisashi called.

"Bye!" Izuku shouted, already out the door. It slammed behind him, and Izuku sighed. He tossed the apple in the air, catching it and then running off.

When he reached the gates of U.A., courtyard still full of students, Izuku realized he hadn't eaten his breakfast. He looked at the apple he'd been gripping tightly, red surface waxy, and decided he wasn't hungry. Izuku shoved it in his backpack; maybe he'd eat it later, in a break between classes.

Izuku was the last student to trudge into Class 1-A. Uraraka caught his gaze, eyes shining wetly in the light; they both looked toward Iida. His head was lowered and his shoulders tense. He was looking at the table. Nothing in particular, it seemed; his gaze was empty and blank.

Izuku looked back at Uraraka.

 _You saw?_ Uraraka mouthed. Izuku nodded solemnly.

Mina stuck her feet onto the table. Iida barely blinked. Izuku felt a bitter taste accrue in his mouth as he shuffled to his seat, Kacchan's sharp gaze catching him as he passed.

Eraserhead wasn't there yet. Izuku drummed his fingers on the table restlessly. The atmosphere of the class was tense, though Izuku's classmates were trying to go about the time normally. A couple of girls had put their chairs together and were speaking in low voices. Yaoyorozu looked like she was helping Eraserhead prepare a few papers for class, but she kept shuffling the same stack methodically and straightening it.

Todoroki looked over and caught Izuku's attention. They looked at each other, not speaking, before Todoroki leaned over.

"Thank you," he said quietly.

Izuku couldn't stop his fingers. He nodded once jerkily and tried for a smile. Todoroki nodded back, face falling back into a blank expression Izuku had found aloof before.

He glanced at Iida again but could only see his back. Izuku wanted to talk to him but wasn't sure what he could say, or if Iida wanted to hear it. And the last thing Iida needed was attention.

Izuku fidgeted in his seat but stayed there.

The door opened. Eraserhead stalked in. No sleeping bag today, it seemed. He was followed closely by All Might, who smiled broadly at the class. At the sight of their teachers, some of the tension that had filled the air dissipated.

Eraserhead didn't bother with a good morning, though All Might seemed cheery as he spoke his. The class chorused back enthusiastically.

"We have a lot to do," Eraserhead said. He began to write on the board.

"First up," All Might said, cutting in as Eraserhead wrote, "you all did incredibly well at the Sports Festival. I wanted to congratulate you again on your performances."

"Thank you, All Might!"

All Might beamed. "However," he continued, "there is always room for improvement. For your homework you're assigned a three-to-four page reflection and critique of your performance and one classmate of your choice, due before your internships."

"Thank you, All Might," the class groaned, not at all grateful and far less excited.

"Internships are coming up," Eraserhead said. "We will pass out your offers at the end of class. We're going to spend a week training and working on refining a few aspects of heroics. The internships will begin the following week."

Eraserhead swung an arm up to point at the board.

 _SKILLS_ , he'd written in big letters.

"There's still a lot you don't know. The internships provided will hopefully give you a look into the roles and responsibilities of a hero _outside_ of fighting villains."

All Might coughed. "If you've never filled out paperwork, you're going to learn now."

The thought of All Might squished at a desk filling out paperwork made Izuku snort. All Might glanced at him, having heard the noise, and Izuku flushed and looked away.

"Before you're thrown at some poor hero agency that has to put up with you," Eraserhead started, glaring out over them, "you're going to practice a few skills that might be helpful in the field."

Skills, as it turned out, covered a wide variety of things. They started in the gym, learning practical things—tying knots, basic first aid on the field, picking locks. Izuku wasn't sure how applicable the last one was, but he supposed it came in use for a hero like Eraserhead. Maybe less so for a hero like All Might, whose very presence could probably break a door off its hinges.

Eraserhead, stalking around supervising, raised his brows when Izuku had his lock picked fairly quickly. He'd had a lot of practice.

Under his gaze, Izuku winced.

"Uh," he said, and spotted a few of his classmates looking over. "I had a lock-picking phase! You know. Super normal."

"Yo, what middle school did you go to? I wanna go there."

"You _wish_ you were that cool."

Eraserhead sighed and handed him a different one. Izuku picked it dutifully—they were simple locks, commonly used, so Izuku didn't have much of a problem.

And if he did, Izuku figured, now with One for All it probably wouldn't be hard to break in somewhere.

Izuku glanced down the line to where Iida was, focused on his own task. He looked absorbed in thought; Izuku shifted, wanting to go talk to him, but the teachers were watching closely. He wasn't sure they'd let him go.

He mindlessly picked the next lock, pushing against the barrels inside until each one clicked.

"Bro," Kirishima said, leaning over. "Teach me your manly ways."

Izuku squinted at him.

"Not sure this is manly," he said slowly, but he patiently walked Kirishima how to pick the lock.

"Hey, have you thought about your hero name?"

"Huh?"

"Your hero name," Kirishima said.

"Oh," Izuku said, then frowned, "not really. Why?"

"I think we're picking them before we start internships," Kirishima told him, "since it's supposed to be part of the experience."

" _Oh,_ " Izuku said. He hadn't really thought about it besides the fact that his hero name couldn't be Deku. "What about you?"

Kirishima grinned, bright and sharp. "I dunno yet." He pumped his fist when the lock clicked. "But it's going to be cool as hell."

Izuku smiled at him.

"I know _my_ name," Kacchan butted in. Izuku raised his eyebrows.

"What is it? Bakugou Blast, Hear His Name and Tremble, Ugh?"

"You put a lot of thought into that," Kirishima said, snickering. "I like it, Akatani."

They high-fived. Kacchan scoffed. "King Explosion Murder."

Kirishima whooped and then burst into laughter. Izuku bit back his laughter but shook silently.

"What," Kacchan said, glaring, and Kirishima laughed so hard he fell over.

"No," Izuku said, completely deadpan as he kept a straight face, "it's a great name, Bakugou."

Kirishima wheezed. From across the room, Eraserhead eyed them but decided not to get involved. Izuku sent All Might a thumbs up when his mentor looked over. All Might beamed back.

"Hey," Izuku said seriously, keeping his voice low, "have either of you talked to Iida?"

Kacchan huffed. "Why would I talk to Four Eyes?"

But the look on Kacchan's face said otherwise. He knew what Izuku meant.

"I haven't," Kirishima said, glancing over. They all turned.

"I'm just— worried," Izuku confessed.

Kacchan kicked Izuku's ankle. "For what?"

 _He'll get through it,_ Kacchan was saying. Izuku worried at his lip but dropped his gaze.

After class Izuku ran to catch up to his friend.

"Iida," he called, and Iida slowed when Izuku approached to talk to him. "Hey, Iida."

"Is there something you require of me?"

"Yeah," Izuku said, and a bit of curiosity lit in Iida's eyes. "You know you can talk to me, right?"

Iida's face went blank.

"Thank you," Iida said stiffly, and Izuku frowned. That wasn't the reaction that he wanted.

"Iida," Izuku tried.

Iida stopped him. "I'm alright," he said, "you don't need to worry about me, Akatani."

Izuku knew lies better than he knew the truth, and that had been a lie. Iida left, and Izuku stared at his back as he got smaller and more distant. Izuku wanted to chase after him, but couldn't.

He spent the day trying to talk to Iida again, but Izuku felt like he was running into a wall.

Izuku skipped lunch and spent the entire period on the roof, watching the people down below and thinking. It didn't help him much. He checked the news again, though there was nothing new.

 _Hosu,_ Izuku thought, swinging his legs over the roof and kicking them back and forth. He clung to the railing and looked outwards.

He hadn't seen head or tail of the League.

Maybe the two weren't unconnected. There was something dark and sinister lurking Izuku could barely keep at bay, a larger plan he was a small piece of. Izuku swallowed the thought, lingering on the rooftop even when it was nearly time to return to class.

As Izuku trudged down the stairs, he spotted Iida rush by, quickly followed by Kacchan. Izuku watched them go and then chased after them.

Kacchan didn't seem to notice him, so Izuku kept close. He was blocked by a leaving group of students and hung back, and by that time Kacchan had rounded the corner and disappeared. Izuku caught up in time to hear the snatches of conversation.

"—what you're referring to."

" _Bullshit."_

"Bakugou, I appreciate the concern, but—"

Kacchan snorted. "I'm not concerned. But your friends fucking are, and they're not going to stop watching you like you bowled through all their fucking puppies or something."

A beat. Izuku pressed his back to the wall.

"Bakugou." Iida sighed loudly. He had the tone of voice that Izuku recognized—he was going to shut Kacchan out, too. "I admit I don't understand why _you_ wanted to talk to me."

"Because you're a fucking idiot," Kacchan said.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me. You're a fucking idiot."

"Excuse me—"

"No," Kacchan said, voice charged, "you're not leaving until you hear me the fuck out, you understand?"

Izuku clutched at his shirt, balling his fists in the fabric as he waited for Iida to respond. Maybe— maybe, he hoped, if Iida wasn't going to listen to Izuku or to Uraraka, Kacchan could get through to him. He had a… different approach.

"Very well," Izuku heard Iida say reluctantly.

"Look. Your brother's in the fucking hospital because he got injured trying to do his job."

"That's enough. If you're here to remind me of my situation—"

"Did I say I was done, _Iida?_ "

Silence.

"Your brother is alive. Do you understand that? Your brother is _alive._ "

"I don't—"

Izuku dared to glance around the corner, and saw Kacchan in Iida's face, presence filling up the space.

"Ingenium is alive," Kacchan said.

"He's—"

"It doesn't matter if he can fucking run or not. Or whatever. He doesn't stop being a hero after it's over, does he?"

"Of course he's still a hero! But he—"

"Ingenium is alive because he has _you._ Get that in your fucking head. You nearly lost him, but you didn't."

"I…"

"Your brother is alive. Ingenium is alive. Hold on to what you have, Ingenium."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Do you think you're alone?" Kacchan asked roughly.

"What do you mean?"

"Do you think that loss only happens to you? Do you think that other people don't lose the things they care about either?"

Izuku covered his mouth with a hand, heartbeat spiking. He made himself sit, trying to keep calm.

Footsteps. Kacchan appeared out of the corner of his eye; he'd backed away. He'd said everything he'd wanted to.

"You're lucky," Kacchan said, and it was soft. "He came back. Not everyone does."

He started walking in Izuku's direction. Izuku shot to his feet and swayed at the sudden movement, turning so it looked like he'd just gotten there.

Kacchan spotted him.

"Hell are you doing here?"

Izuku furrowed his brow at him, still trying to process the conversation he'd overheard.

"Going to class?" He scratched at his head. "Like you should be?"

Kacchan grunted. He eyed Izuku.

"You weren't at lunch," Kacchan commented as they began to walk together in the direction of the classrooms. He tilted his head. "Eating with your dad?"

Izuku choked. "What?"

His first thought was panic—had Kacchan seen Hisashi? Was his father _here_ , and Izuku didn't know?

Then Kacchan said, "You know Coffee Creamer is right. You and All Might aren't subtle."

There was too much to process, so Izuku went with, "Coffee Creamer?"

"Half-and-Half," Kacchan said, like it was obvious. He rolled his eyes. "Fine. Todoroki."

" _Totally,_ " Izuku said, then realized what Kacchan meant. "He _told_ you?"

Kacchan rolled his eyes when the rest of their exchange caught up with Izuku. "You noticed?"

"You—"

"That I wasn't at lunch," Izuku said.

"You're so fucking bright it hurts."

Izuku waved his arms trying to think of a response.

"Let's get to class," Iida called, striding between them and pointing forwards. He was calm, steady, acting like nothing had ever happened. Izuku exchanged a glance with Kacchan.

On the way back, Izuku lagged behind, lost in thought again. Kacchan had to snap him out of his muttering, but it didn't help. He was tired, too. Izuku pressed a hand to his face and felt hot.

"Hurry up," Kacchan called back.

"Just enjoying the view," Izuku replied weakly, but he slowed further.

Just a few more classes, Izuku thought. Maybe afterwards he could go back and take a nap—that always made things better. It meant he'd have to push his homework back, and maybe some of his personal training. But that was okay. After that, Bonestealer would probably seek him out again.

Sleep wouldn't come easy, so Izuku would spend the time being productive. Knowing his luck, he'd probably jerk awake in the middle of the night, anxious, and stay up until morning doing homework and staring at his analysis notebooks.

Iida, Ingenium, the Hero Killer. Hisashi breathing down his back. All for One, always there, always waiting. It was only a matter of time before Izuku would be asked the question he dreaded most.

He just needed a little more time…

"Akatani?"

Just a little more time to figure this out, to keep that precious balance before Shigaraki exploded. Needed to keep everyone safe: All Might, Mom, Kacchan. U.A. His new friends…

"Hey, Akatani?"

He felt sick.

A hand grabbed his shoulder and shook a little. Izuku's vision cleared; he was still in the hall, and Kacchan's face swam in and out of focus as he spoke.

"What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Uh…" Izuku's face felt wooden and stiff, like it was a mask and not real flesh and bone.

He swayed, and his thoughts returned to everything that was piling on his shoulders. All Might, the hero course, his father, Shigaraki.

 _Weakness_ , he thought dimly. This was _his_ weakness.

"Iida, make yourself useful and—"

Izuku didn't remember anything between standing in the hallway and blinking awake with his friend standing over him. He was on the ground, he realized slowly, cool tile under his back.

He sat up sharply, and Kacchan grabbed his shoulder to support him.

"Fucking hell," Kacchan said, and Izuku wanted to cry at the look on his face. "Passed out like a fucking idiot."

"Did I," Izuku said. He braced his feet underneath him. "Where's Iida?"

Kacchan rolled his eyes. "Don't even think about it. And he went to get help."

Help ended up being All Might, the closest teacher Iida could find. Just Izuku's luck. When Izuku spotted him he jerked, instinctively wanting to run, but couldn't.

All Might told the others to head to class and picked Izuku up like he weighed nothing. Izuku felt his face burn—in shame, maybe, or embarrassment—but he didn't realize how tired he was until he was sinking into All Might's safe hold.

"What did you do?" All Might asked gently. He was holding Izuku the way he had at USJ. Like he could shield Izuku from the world just by being there, and Izuku shut his eyes.

He felt All Might sigh and took an easy comfort in the feel of All Might walking. Blindfolded, facing Bonestealer without sight was a terrifying experience. Now with his eyes closed, Izuku felt safe.

The second and last time Izuku woke, it was in the infirmary.

Recovery Girl was bustling around quietly, but her eyes slid over when Izuku shifted and tried to sit up. He felt heavy, and not quite right.

"You're awake. Good."

Izuku must've stared at her for too long because she sighed.

"You fainted in the middle of the hall on the way back from lunch. Your friends got All Might to take you here, and you fell asleep."

All Might. The name shot through his mind like a bolt of electricity. He sat up.

"What…"

He couldn't see All Might, couldn't talk to him now…

Recovery Girl must've seen panic flash across his face. She pressed him back gently.

"I kicked him out," she said flatly, "because he was too busy worrying. How much sleep did you get last night?"

The question was so sudden it made his head spin.

"Th… two hours?"

"And for how long has this been a thing?"

"I don't know. After the Sports Festival?"

"When did you last eat?"

"Yesterday," Izuku mumbled. "Lunch, I think."

Recovery Girl sighed, rubbing a hand over her face.

"You… What are you thinking, running yourself into the ground like that?"

"I… huh?"

Recovery Girl sighed again, turning away for a moment. Izuku sat up fully and realized some of the fuzz that had been following him had cleared. It wasn't gone; he still felt awful, but he felt better than before.

"What's going on in that head of yours?"

Izuku folded his hands in his lap. Now that he'd caught some rest, his brain felt clearer, certainly enough to feel embarrassed about what had happened. Izuku faced down villains every day yet had managed to faint in the middle of a schoolday. And he didn't think he'd had the worst of it; no one Izuku loved had been injured and hospitalized.

"What time is it?"

"Class is nearly over. Doesn't matter—you're going straight home."

"What? No!"

Recovery Girl levelled him with a look.

"Young man," she said, but she was interrupted by the door banging open. Her face went sour with displeasure.

"Akatani!"

Uraraka's voice, typically bright, was worried. Izuku felt bad immediately. She shouldn't have had to worry over him.

A tall figure filed in after her. Iida.

"Aizawa-sensei permitted us to come," Iida said as Uraraka bounded over to the bed.

"Are you alright?" she asked. Izuku swung his legs over the side of the bed and smiled at her reassuringly.

"Don't worry about me," he said. Recovery Girl sighed like she disagreed, and Izuku frowned at her.

"You are our friend," Iida said, stepping closer. He stopped at the foot of the bed, whereas Uraraka moved closer, putting a hand on his knee.

"I'm fine," Izuku said roughly, the words grating.

"You're fine," Iida repeated in a flat voice. Izuku felt anger spark and something catch between them. "I don't believe that."

"Then that makes us both liars," Izuku said, and Uraraka sucked in air.

"Akatani, Iida…"

"I said you don't have to worry about me," Izuku said again with more force.

"I shouldn't have to," Iida said, just as strongly, "have you not thought about your actions? You're not giving yourself what you need."

"You're one to talk. Don't lecture me."

"Boys!"

Izuku glared across the bed at his friend. He didn't _need_ Iida to worry about him. It was meant to be the other way around.

Iida looked furious, now. Izuku felt it.

"Don't you think it's hard enough I have to worry about Tensei?"

"So don't worry about me," Izuku said.

Izuku could see Iida's chest rising and falling with every word. He suddenly turned, sprinting down the hall.

Uraraka called after him.

"Go," Izuku said, tired.

"He's just scared," Uraraka said quietly. "Please be careful."

She patted his knee and then ran out the door after Iida, calling his name. Izuku sat on the edge of the bed and felt things spiral even more out of his control.

Recovery Girl hobbled around the side of the bed. She was always energetic, with her quick tongue and sharp mind, but now Izuku remembered she was old, too.

"He doesn't need to worry about me," Izuku said petulantly, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Maybe not," Recovery Girl acknowledged, as if she hadn't scolded Izuku. "You want to help him. To ease his burden."

"Of course I do," Izuku said.

"You're just like him," Recovery Girl said, sighing, and Izuku didn't have to ask who she was referring to. "Do you want to know something I've learned, Akatani? I've spent my life caring for other people. I know a thing or two."

Izuku slid to the floor, testing his balance. "Sure."

Recovery Girl looked him in the eye. "To take care of others you need to take care of yourself first."

Izuku sighed. "I'm alright, Recovery Girl."

She seemed unusually kind as she sent him off, apparently reassured Izuku wasn't going to faint again or trip down a set of stairs.

"Say that again when you believe it," she told him.

Izuku stepped out into the sunshine early before the rest of the students left. He didn't want to think about what Recovery Girl had told him, but he did acknowledge that he could use something to eat, at the very least. Even if he didn't feel like it.

Izuku pulled the apple he'd put away in his bag and bit into it. He crossed the street, tearing the flesh from the apple and seeing pale white against red.

A set of eyes was on him. Izuku recognized it. Danger.

On a nearby bench, Izuku spotted Shigaraki, legs crossed. He stood when he saw Izuku looking, and the apple dropped from Izuku's hand and rolled, the little strip of white disappearing back into red.

Izuku fumbled for his phone. Shigaraki jerked his head towards the nearest alleyway and said, "Don't let us get caught."

A careful illusion disguised them as they slunk into the darkness where Kurogiri was waiting.

"Sensei wants to see you," Shigaraki informed him, and Izuku swallowed past the lump in his throat. "Let's not keep him waiting."


	25. Chapter 25

**Flare Signal** _  
chapter twenty-five_

* * *

With Shigaraki at his back and nowhere to run, Izuku wondered if it was appropriate to pass out again.

Probably not, Izuku decided, stepping into the familiar space. He wasn't sure he'd wake up again.

He slid his hand into his pocket and touched the reassuring smoothness of his phone, something real. There was no one in the bar this time, and it made Izuku shiver. There was something reassuring about having witnesses.

The television was already on, waiting for him.

"I brought him," Shigaraki called, voice callous, and Izuku's hand tightened around his phone.

There was no response for a while.

"Very good," Sensei said, "now, Tomura, please leave us."

Shigaraki's eyes flashed. He stomped a foot on the ground. "Why?"

"I'd like to speak with Izuku here privately," Sensei explained, patience unending. Shigaraki seethed for a moment even as Kurogiri stepped around the bar.

"You want to keep secrets from me."

If Sensei could smile, he surely would be now. "I will tell you in due time. Go, Tomura."

Shigaraki glared at Izuku. Izuku shrank back under his gaze, but Shigaraki turned and stalked out.

It was true that Izuku held no particular love for Shigaraki, but after the man left Izuku regretted it. Izuku could get under Shigaraki's skin, could mess with him.

He didn't want to be alone with All for One. He couldn't be.

"Izuku."

Izuku's eyes jumped to the television then away. He cowered.

"I told you before that fighting All Might cost me my sight, hm?" He sounded careful, casual. "How I wish I could see you…"

Izuku took in short, shallow breaths, fixing his gaze on the floor.

"I'd like to ask you something."

He wrung his hands nervously, then ran his fingers over a few sets of faint scars. Izuku opened his mouth to respond several times but couldn't.

Finally, he choked out, "Yes, Sensei."

"Do you fear me, Izuku?"

Izuku bowed his head. A shudder ran through him. He thought the answer was obvious enough.

"Yes, Sensei," Izuku whispered.

He felt like a marionette on strings, movements jerky and controlled by someone else. A blink of an eye, and the strings would be cut short. He'd drop, limp and lifeless.

"I wish you didn't," Sensei said, "you have nothing to fear of me."

"I respect you," Izuku said to the floor. He could hear his heartbeat pulsing. "So I fear you."

Sensei hummed. "You know I would never dare hurt you."

Izuku's heart missed a beat. He pressed his trembling lips together.

"How could I, little dragon? If I cut your wings you would never fly."

"Why did you want to see me," Izuku whispered. His throat felt as dry as sandpaper, and the words scraped harshly against the inside.

"You fascinate me, Midoriya Izuku," All for One said, and gone was the facade and the niceties. In its place was a villain, one who knew what he wanted and would take it. "Your quick mind, your illusions. And yet there is one thing I don't understand."

"Yes, Sensei?"

Izuku thought he would collapse again right there. He felt sweat slip down the back of his neck but couldn't make himself move. All for One was playing cat-and-mouse, slowly cornering him with jaws open wide. Izuku saw the glint of sharp teeth.

"Why did All Might choose you?"

The teeth snapped around Izuku. He could _feel_ them, biting into his neck, sinking into his skin and drawing blood. Izuku touched the back of his neck and withdrew with his fingers damp.

"I don't know what you mean," Izuku croaked.

"Izuku," All for One crooned his name like a song. "I think you know perfectly what I mean."

Izuku's heart pulsed. Unbidden he felt the embers of his power stir. Did the remnants of this legacy recognize who he was speaking to?

He closed his eyes and remembered the wielders. Remembered One for All, their hands aligned, and it gave him strength.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Izuku said, stronger this time.

He waited.

Any moment now, All for One would come crawling out of the television.

Izuku was sure of it. Reaching tendrils of darkness would creep across the floor and surround him. Blackness would flood the room until its very stuff slipped into Izuku's mouth, inside him, drowning him, and All for One would ask again like a ghost clinging to his skin: _why did All Might choose_ you?

There was a long, awful silence. Static skittered across the screen, then in his mind. Izuku sucked in a sharp breath, knowing it was only half-real.

Then All for One chuckled. A low, subtle thing that made Izuku shake.

"I see."

Izuku twisted his shaking hands together again.

"You're just like him."

"Just… just like who?"

All for One didn't respond. He chuckled again.

The floorboards creaked loudly as Izuku eased backwards, trying to put a little distance between himself and the television.

"Sen- sensei?"

"Yes, Izuku."

"What do you want from me?"

Izuku imagined a shadowed man folding his hands together, gazing without sight at him.

"I see something in you, Izuku. An untapped potential," All for One said finally, "and I think that of all is what you desire, isn't it? To be seen?"

Izuku couldn't seem to breathe.

Wasn't that what Izuku wanted? Just for someone to see him past it all. Strange, how a man unseeing could see clearly through him.

"There is no place for you out there," All for One finished quietly. Izuku thought he must have been smiling, now. He could hear it. "I find you and I similar. Heroes can never give what they promise."

Izuku shut his eyes and felt his heart shudder.

There was a soft sound like gathering rain. Izuku turned right and opened his eyes to meet Kurogiri's gaze.

"Come with me, please," the villain said, and Izuku cast a glance at the television one more time before he was sent away.

Kurogiri left him in the alley they'd come from. Izuku stumbled, knees weak. He steadied himself and braced a hand against the wall, gasping.

Izuku fumbled with his phone and then covered his face.

"No," Izuku croaked, and he made himself leave the alley, only barely remembering to create an illusion to disguise himself. He was too close to U.A. The last thing Izuku needed was someone he knew finding him.

Izuku wrapped his arms around himself and made his way to the apartment. Outside the door, he stood, hand hovering over the doorknob.

He couldn't go in. He thought about seeing Hisashi and knew that he couldn't. So Izuku turned around, trudging down the street again even though it was the last thing he wanted to do. The sea of people swelled and dropped in places, and Izuku numbly sank into it, just another face in the crowd.

Izuku wandered into a familiar-looking neighborhood. There was the street corner he and Kacchan used to race to. There was that old tree he liked to climb. There, that spot on the sidewalk that Izuku had always tripped over. Izuku hopped over it and then laughed a little.

He eyed his childhood home but shook his head, passing by without another glance. Instead Izuku headed to the park, already full of children laughing and playing. He could hear the children, voices a distant din that Izuku found comforting.

Izuku went to the grove of trees through which a winding path cut through. He sat under one, tucked away from sight and hidden in the shade. Then he laid back, squinting at the leaves above him making patterns of light dance.

For a moment Izuku breathed. The leaves rustled faintly, touched by wind, and he watched one drop and spiral slowly to the ground.

He shifted so he could grab it and then held it up, rolling the leaf back and forth between his fingers. A mottled spot of brown marred the bright growth.

All for One knew.

The thought struck him like lightning.

All for One _knew._

Izuku had evaded All for One's questions. He'd escaped All for One's grasp. It didn't matter. None of it mattered; Izuku had lived another day but only continued down the same path.

Yet Sensei had never answered Izuku's question. What did he _want_? Why Izuku of all people.

With him, there was no such thing as luck. Nothing like a coincidence. All for One orchestrated his plans carefully, a puppet master toying with the people under his thumb. Izuku was just another piece.

But a piece of— of what?

The goal, of course, was to defeat All Might. All for One and Shigaraki both had made that clear. Every time Izuku spoke to All for One he could only hear riddles, more questions Izuku couldn't answer.

"Young man," a voice said, and Izuku startled, sitting up quickly. He clutched the leaf to his chest and looked up into an aged face, smiling gently.

He looked… familiar.

Suddenly it clicked. Tsubasa. Dr. Tsubasa, who Izuku had visited several times as a kid back when they'd been discerning whether Izuku had a Quirk or not, then again when they couldn't figure out what it was.

"It's a nice spot you have here," Dr. Tsubasa said. Izuku shifted uncomfortably, but there was nothing he could really do. "It's been a long time, hasn't it?"

Izuku's blood ran cold.

"I'm sorry?"

Dr. Tsubasa smiled at him gently. He slowly lowered himself into the soft grass next to Izuku.

"You look well, Midoriya Izuku."

Izuku struggled to find words. No one had recognized him. Not Kacchan, who Izuku had grown up with, nor Mom, who had raised him.

"Hello, doctor," Izuku said quietly, trapped.

"It's been a long time, hasn't it?" Dr. Tsubasa asked again. Izuku nodded, throat dry. "How many years, now?"

"Well," Izuku said uncomfortably, "a lot since I saw you. But if you're asking, five since I— moved away."

Dr. Tsubasa was nodding along to Izuku's words like he knew perfectly. Then Izuku remembered that Dr. Tsubasa had a grandson that had gone to the same school. They'd played together, but the years had stretched by. Izuku couldn't remember if Tsubasa had switched schools or if Izuku had just drifted away quietly. He'd been younger, then. If Izuku shut his eyes he could remember an excited smile and a set of leathery wings.

"How…" Izuku swallowed. "How did you… recognize me?"

Dr. Tsubasa laughed a little. "Oh, I can tell," he said, adjusting his glasses. "You look a bit different than I remember, of course, but you have the same… hm, _presence._ "

"Presence," Izuku repeated dumbly.

He still couldn't wrap his mind around it. It had taken one look for his childhood doctor to recognize him. A simple glance, and he'd gleaned all the secrets from Izuku he could get.

"It's an acquired skill, if you will," Dr. Tsubasa said, like that was a helpful explanation. "Not many people have the talent for it."

"I see," Izuku said, feeling uneasy. His stomach turned. He twirled the stem of the leaf in his hand around and around.

If… if Dr. Tsubasa could figure it out, how long before someone else did? Maybe they didn't all have the so-called 'talent' for it, but Izuku knew it was only a matter of time before he would say something he wasn't meant to, or let it slip he wasn't quite who he said he was.

Izuku had spent a lot of time watching people. Tracking heroes, picking out their weaknesses.

That was the problem and the solution, depending. Everyone had a weakness. There was not a person who didn't—not even All Might. Not even, Izuku thought, All for One, but he was skilled at hiding his weaknesses.

If All for One was skilled at hiding his weaknesses, Izuku may as well have just only covered his with duct tape and a set of sunglasses. It'd hurt when they were all peeled off.

"You seem a bit lost in thought."

"A lot to think about."

"Would you like to share?" Dr. Tsubasa's mouth twitched under his moustache. "Perhaps an old man can offer you some advice."

Izuku caved, but only a little—desperate and lonely.

"I'm just," Izuku started, but he was careful and deliberate in shaping his words. "I'm just worried, Dr. Tsubasa. I think I'm a bit—stuck, you see. In a delicate situation, and I'm not sure how to fix it."

"Well," Dr. Tsubasa said, "with any problem, you have to start at the roots, don't you?"

Izuku cocked his head questioningly.

"What I'm saying," Dr. Tsubasa continued when he saw Izuku's face, "is that problems are not solved by brushing over them."

He plucked the leaf from Izuku's hand. "You can take this leaf from that tree, but another will only grow in its place in a matter of time. You may break a branch, but the tree will heal and continue to grow. It is only from the origin that one can treat an issue that has rooted itself so firmly."

Dr. Tsubasa stood. He placed a withered hand on the tree's trunk, and his silhouette blocked out the light. He looked as eternal and solid as the tree itself.

"Good luck, Midoriya Izuku," Dr. Tsubasa said. He dropped the leaf back to the ground.

Before Izuku could say a goodbye back or ask him to wait, Dr. Tsubasa was gone.

Izuku watched him return to the walking trail, ambling along slowly, impervious to the world going on around him.

"A coincidence," Izuku murmured, but he remembered that he hadn't completely believed in coincidences. "Strange…"

Izuku wasn't sure if talking to Dr. Tsubasa had made things better or worse. He looked at the tree and the tips of the roots jutting from the ground. They disappeared under the grass, running deep. It was not so simple, Izuku thought, to uproot something that had been planted years ago.

And, he thought, dragging a foot in the grass, the ground would tear.

Stepping out of the shade and into the sun, Izuku shielded his eyes. It was lower than he thought; it was time to get back. He'd spent nearly an afternoon wandering, but Hisashi wouldn't be happy if Izuku was out too late.

Izuku went back to the apartment for the second time that day, rubbing absentmindedly at his chest. The door didn't creak, but the floor did. But Izuku didn't see Hisashi in the living room or in the kitchen.

He took his shoes off by the door and went down the hall silently, passing the bathroom. The door after that was shut, but Izuku saw light from underneath it—the room Hisashi had claimed as his 'study' when they'd moved.

Izuku hesitated outside the door then quickly pressed his ear to it. He shut his eyes and let the darkness sweep over his vision. Then he listened, like Bonestealer wanted.

A quiet shuffling. Papers. A low voice—Hisashi's, from the lilt of it, but Izuku wasn't sure if he was speaking to himself or someone else. There didn't seem to be anyone else in the room, so maybe it was a phone call. There was no indication that Hisashi knew Izuku had just returned.

That was alright. Izuku preferred it that way. He went to his room and shut the door as quietly as he could.

Izuku dropped his backpack by his bed and then flopped onto it. He reached for his phone, making sure he'd saved what he needed before checking his messages.

There was one from Uraraka and another from an unknown number quickly identified as Yaoyorozu. Both of them were about what he'd missed from the rest of the day, though it didn't seem much. They'd also both asked how he was feeling.

Izuku clicked in, intending to respond, then closed the chat again. If he replied, his classmates would surely see. It'd be taken as an invitation of concern or talk.

It was better if Izuku could pull away. Gently untangle their threads from around him. It'd keep them safe, or safer.

Izuku's phone buzzed. He blinked, expecting to see maybe Iida's name, but instead saw Toshinori's. His heart sank, but he read the message anyway.

Toshinori wanted to eat lunch with him tomorrow. Izuku frowned, but there was no way he could refuse. Not to mention that Toshinori would only find a different time to talk to him privately—at least lunch meant there was a guaranteed end time, when Izuku could run. An escape.

Izuku had a thought and plucked a hair from his head. The dyed strand was short, but that didn't matter.

"The root of the problem," Izuku said quietly.

He stood nervously outside the lounge the next day, tapping his fingers together.

Was this— was this the right choice?

"The ground will tear," Izuku murmured, and then he stepped in.

Toshinori was waiting for him. Izuku bowed slightly, then went to sit across from his mentor.

"You wanted to… see me," Izuku said, mouth sour. He didn't like the foreboding feeling he had, the way his insides were crawling over each other. It was the same twisting feeling he'd had seeing All for One, even if the person across from him was someone Izuku trusted and admired deeply. Maybe that was why—because fear and love could both hurt the same.

Toshinori gazed at him, eyes shadowed. He looked like he hadn't slept. Izuku hadn't, either.

"How…" Toshinori started. He seemed, for once, to be at a loss of words. "I wanted to ask you if you were… alright."

"Yes," Izuku said, too quickly, then said, "I'm fine."

"What happened yesterday—"

Izuku was already finished with the conversation. He gritted his teeth. "It's fine, Toshinori. It won't happen again."

Toshinori sighed. He ran a hand through his hair.

"That's not what I meant."

"Well," Izuku said, a bit too forcefully, "it won't happen again, alright?"

Toshinori looked a little bewildered, like Izuku had struck him.

"...Alright," he said after a pause.

Izuku dropped his gaze.

"Sorry," Izuku said after a moment, shame crawling in. Still, it was overtaken by a hot flash of anger. "I'm just. Sorry."

"No, no," Toshinori said. He sighed again, longer this time.

"I wanted to ask you something," Izuku blurted.

At the same time, Toshinori said, "I need to tell you something."

They looked at each other for a moment, faint surprise etched in their faces. Izuku hadn't expected Toshinori to speak. He ran a nervous hand through his hair, feeling it shift under his fingers.

"You first," Izuku said.

"No, no—"

"I mean it," Izuku said, "it's just a silly question. You first."

That Toshinori didn't protest any further meant that he was serious.

"Very well," Toshinori said, folding his hands in his lap. "I'm… I'm sorry I didn't tell you this sooner, but I… I didn't think it was going to be a problem. I thought that perhaps I'd won."

"Won?"

Toshinori folded his hands in front of him.

"This Quirk," he said, pointing between them. "The Quirk I gave you. Do you remember what it was called?"

Izuku thought he knew where this was going. He rubbed at his chest, trying to relieve the tightness there.

"One for All."

It was just a whisper, but the room was so quiet that Toshinori heard him regardless.

"Yes," Toshinori said, "One for All. A Quirk that was passed down from generation to generation, holder to holder, growing stronger each time. That is the nature of it, yes, but I never told you where it came from."

Toshinori began a story, one that had been passed down with the Quirk and pieced together. In the beginning, there had been two brothers. One held a Quirk that seemed almost harmless, lying dormant in wait.

The other, however, had been All for One.

Izuku shivered as Toshinori relayed all that he knew. All for One, who could take and give Quirks on a whim, who quickly seized all the power he could have.

Then he'd killed his brother.

But, Toshinori finished, not without passing on his Quirk, and certainly not without a fight.

Izuku sat still for a long time after Toshinori was done, trying to form words.

"Why… why are you telling me this?"

Izuku knew. He didn't need to ask, but he did. He knew.

"I fought him, six years ago," Toshinori said, "and I thought it was over. I thought I had defeated him where my predecessors had not, that One for All had finally become strong enough to overpower him. Even if it left me the way I am."

Izuku opened his mouth, then closed it again.

Toshinori didn't smile, but he came close to it. "It was worth it. It was worth every bit of pain I had to suffer if it meant no one else had to bear it."

Izuku drew his knees up to his chest.

"I've been speaking with, ah, Detective Tsukauchi about his investigation into the League of Villains." Toshinori frowned. "We're not sure, but we believe it's possible that All for One isn't as gone as we thought he was."

Izuku surprised himself by nearly laughing. The need bubbled in his throat. He wanted to laugh until his ribs hurt.

 _We're not sure. We believe it's possible._

Oh, Izuku knew.

Toshinori was looking at him strangely, but Izuku couldn't help the rising hysteria.

"Alright?"

"Yeah," Izuku gasped out. He rubbed at his eyes. "Yeah."

"You… had a question for me," Toshinori said suddenly, and the hysteria drained from Izuku.

"Right," Izuku said. He cleared his throat. "Why… All Might, why did you choose— why did you choose _me_?"

The truth was that Izuku didn't know. He didn't know what All Might saw in him, passing by a boy in the street. He didn't see what All Might saw. He looked in the mirror and saw someone else.

He wore the same clothes and had the same face, but it wasn't really Izuku. Not like that.

"I chose you because I saw someone with a good heart," Toshinori said, "because I saw someone who could do good, and who could do more if I gave you the chance. And— I chose you because I needed to."

"I don't understand."

Izuku didn't. He realized then that he really _didn't_ understand. That all he'd been working for these past months didn't feel quite real, that everything he'd built was fake. Everything Toshinori saw was fake.

Start with the roots. Start with the roots. Izuku reached for his hair.

"I needed someone to continue my legacy," Toshinori said quietly. He was looking at Izuku like he knew something that Izuku didn't. He was looking at Izuku like when Izuku was ten and Miss Guidance had knelt in front of them, smile sweet as she took his hands and said, _you're not going back, Izuku._

 _You're not going back._ Start with the roots.

Izuku clasped his shaking hands together, then said, "I don't _understand._ "

His voice cracked. Toshinori looked tired, and heavy. His bony hands clutched at his thighs. When they'd first met, Izuku could have hardly believed that this was All Might. Now he was all Izuku knew. All Izuku _had._

"Mikumi," Toshinori said, "All for One is out there waiting. He will not stop. He will not stop until the world we know is gone, and no one will be there to stop him."

Izuku was crying. He didn't know when he'd started, only suddenly his shoulders jumped a little and a wetness had taken his face. Toshinori was still looking at him. _You're not going back._

"I gave One for All to you so there would be something left of it when it's all over," Toshinori said.

"No," Izuku whispered.

Toshinori shifted. For a second All Might was in front of him, bigger than life, but for the first time he wasn't smiling. In all of Izuku's memories he had smiled. Then Toshinori was there again.

"When the time comes," Toshinori began, "I'll face him again. I'll defeat him."

Izuku was gasping for air, shuddering, but he couldn't make anything come out.

"I don't know if I'll come back," Toshinori said, and Izuku shot up. A pillow flew to the ground. He backed away until the backs of his thighs hit something, and then he tripped backwards, falling hard onto the couch behind him.

"No," Izuku said, shaking his head.

Toshinori was unyielding.

"I need you to understand."

"No."

"I had to tell you," Toshinori said, "I had to tell you, so you could know, so you could understand. You have to understand."

"You're just going to—give up?"

"I'm not giving up," Toshinori said, shaking his head, "I'm not giving up at all."

"No," Izuku shouted. "You _are._ "

 _You're not going back._

"Mikumi…"

"You have to come back," Izuku said, "that's not fair, you can't leave me… you can't… no—"

"Mikumi, listen to me."

"No!"

The word pulsed through the air. Hung there.

" _You_ ," Izuku gasped, but he was angry, and he was not. He was shaking, he was grieving, he was waiting. "You can't."

Toshinori fell silent. He was asking Izuku to accept it. Izuku could see it in his eyes, the ring of blue like the rim of the ocean. His blood roared in his ears.

So it was then that Izuku felt the dam break and something surge forth.

" _Coward._ "

Toshinori took it. He continued to look at Izuku.

"You're— _coward_ ," Izuku spat, and once the words were out they couldn't be returned.

"I'm sorry."

This was... this was Izuku's fault.

"Mikumi, I'm sorry," Toshinori said, and Izuku couldn't do it.

He got up, backing away when Toshinori reached for him and said, "Please, Mikumi..."

" _No_ ," Izuku said.

Toshinori stared at him, but his face was set and grave. In that moment he would have taken death's hand without hesitation.

Izuku choked on a sob then spun, tearing out of the lounge.

There weren't many students milling in the hall as Izuku sprinted down it. He slammed into someone. Papers flew everywhere. Present Mic took a breath, then saw Izuku, frozen and staring at him wildly. His brow furrowed.

"Hey, hey, kid," he said, voice quieter than Izuku had ever heard it.

"I have to go," Izuku blurted.

"Hey, wait!"

He ran blindly through the streets to indignant shouts and honking cars. The world blurred; Izuku reached up and wiped furiously at his eyes, sobbing.

When he reached the beach the energy left him, and Izuku dropped in the sand. He dug his fingers into it and felt grit gather under his nails. Izuku tried to clutch at it, but it all kept slipping through his fingers.

He got up, walking slowly now, chest heaving.

The worst part, Izuku thought, was the ringing silence _after_. The worst part was that after Izuku had left, Toshinori hadn't called after him.

Izuku waded into the cold water until his feet went numb, then dropped his face into his hands and wept.


	26. Chapter 26

**Flare Signal** _  
chapter twenty-six_

* * *

The day it rained, Izuku stopped to wait under a bridge.

His footsteps were quiet, but the rain was not. Izuku listened to the pattering of water echo strangely in the space. The curve of the structure was cool and dipped in deep shadow; Izuku ran his hand along the dry concrete underneath.

The day after the argument, Izuku stopped to wait under the bridge where he had first met All Might.

It had seemed like a lifetime ago.

Izuku stared at the ground. He scuffed his foot along the grate where the sludge villain had come out of. There were no remnants of the fight. The concrete did not remember.

He did, though. He wasn't sure he'd ever forget.

 _I don't know if I'll come back._

Izuku was still angry. He couldn't help that part of him, that indignant feeling. Heat pooled in his stomach when he thought about All Might sitting, unmoving.

He stepped out into the rain. It hit him in an instant, and Izuku wiped at his face.

 _Coward._

U.A. didn't seem as inviting as it once did. Izuku only felt his stomach twist in knots as he made his way to class, stripping off his blazer and drying off with a device one of the Support students provided.

Uraraka waved at him when he walked in. Izuku averted his gaze and pretended he hadn't seen her.

The class was fairly loud, buzzing with conversation. Izuku made his way to his seat and sat, propping a chin on his hand and staring out the window. Then he folded his arms and put his head down.

There was a loud scraping noise. Izuku ignored it, but a second later Kacchan's voice cut through the din.

"Oi," he said.

Izuku picked up his head. "Do you mind?"

Kacchan gripped the edge of the desk. Izuku sighed at him as he leaned forward.

"The hell is up with you?"

Izuku frowned. "There's nothing _up_ with me."

"You ditched yesterday. Weren't in class after lunch."

"I didn't know you cared," Izuku said lowly, "since we're not _friends._ "

Kacchan recoiled a little, like that hadn't been what he expected. His hand had been halfway across the desk. Now he withdrew it.

Kacchan blinked at him. "Alright," he said, eyes flickering up and down, "Fine."

He turned back around to face the front and started yelling across the room at something else. Izuku put his head back down, feeling even worse. He'd been tempted not to go to school again this morning, but he knew Hisashi would only ask questions. At least at school it was safer. Just a bunch of heroes and one villain.

"Hey," Todoroki whispered.

Izuku glanced over.

Todoroki met his gaze, looking like he had something to say, then shook his head.

"Nevermind."

Class started. Izuku drowned out the noise in his head by throwing himself into taking notes, reading the textbooks and following along as closely as he could.

When it came time for hero training, Izuku stayed at his desk a moment longer, shaking. All Might stood at the front, explaining the exercise they would be running. He kept shooting looks in Izuku's direction, but other than that there was no indication he was at all remorseful for what he'd said the day before.

Izuku paused as the class shuffled out the door towards the battle centers.

"What," Eraserhead asked when he saw Izuku linger.

"Can I… can I go see Recovery Girl?"

Eraserhead looked him up and down.

"I'm not feeling well," Izuku said quietly. "I don't think I can participate today."

A beat. Eraserhead sighed.

"Alright," he said slowly, "I'll let All Might know."

Once the rest of the class was out of sight, Izuku made his way to the infirmary. He hadn't been lying when he'd told Eraserhead he wasn't feeling well. And he wasn't sure he could look All Might in the face without breaking down again.

Recovery Girl didn't look impressed to see him again, but she wasn't surprised, either.

"I heard you and Toshinori had a— fallout yesterday."

Izuku scowled at the ground, trying to summon anger so he wouldn't cry. It didn't help. The tears welled up in his eyes anyway.

He sat on the edge of the bed, then said, "I can't talk to him."

Recovery Girl eyed him. "Do you want to stay here awhile?"

Izuku felt like a scared little kid when he nodded yes. Recovery Girl drew the curtain and let Izuku curl up on a bed, pressing his face into the pillow and trying to shut the world out. She went back to some paperwork, occasionally glancing over at him.

"How many people know?" Izuku asked, voice muffled. Recovery Girl paused. "About yesterday. How many people know?"

She shook her head at him. "I made him tell me. The other teachers are aware you and All Might were involved in a situation but know nothing else."

He pulled the pillow close and shut his eyes.

"It's not fair," Izuku said.

Recovery Girl rolled over in her chair. She put a hand on his shoulder, and Izuku forgot to turn away from the comfort.

"Have faith," she instructed. Izuku sniffled.

"He doesn't have any in himself," he said, "how can I have faith?"

"You have to believe," she said.

Izuku sat up. He put the pillow back and pushed the light blanket away, even though his body was begging for him not to leave the bed.

"I can't," he said, standing up. "I'm going to go back to class. Thank you, Recovery Girl."

He bowed and then took his leave before she could keep talking to him. Izuku heard her call his name, but he was already halfway down the hall.

He'd spent more time in the infirmary than he'd realized. It was partway through lunch; Izuku paused outside the cafeteria, looking at the crowded tables. He spotted his friends. Uraraka had dragged Iida to Kacchan's table. They were eating together, Uraraka caught in an animated conversation.

He didn't feel like going to talk to them, so Izuku turned around and let his feet take him wherever they wanted.

When Izuku blinked and realized he was outside the teacher's lounge, he stopped. The door was open a crack, and Izuku blinked, peeking through it.

Inside, Eraserhead was standing in front of All Might. Izuku frowned, distracted for a moment. He moved out of sight and crouched low to the ground, staying as close as he dared so he could hear.

"—what you said to Akatani."

"I didn't say anything."

"Cut that out, All Might."

All Might sighed. Izuku's heart crumpled. "Honestly, Aizawa… it's none of your business."

Eraserhead scoffed, the sound sharp and mocking.

"None of my business?" he asked incredulously. "None of my _business,_ All Might? You're distracted. Akatani looks like he'd rather be anywhere than in the same room as you. It's plenty of my business."

"I wouldn't expect you to understand."

"I can't understand anything unless you tell me what's going on."

"What do you want me to say?"

"Tell me what happened."

"I can't, Aizawa. That's between us."

"Then _fix it._ "

All Might was silent for a moment. Izuku held his breath, waiting for him to respond, but he said nothing.

"Aizawa, why did you want to see me?" A tapping sound. "Surely not for this."

A dull thud, like Eraserhead had taken a seat heavily.

"No," Eraserhead agreed slowly, "you're right."

"Is there something you need?"

This time, it was Eraserhead who sighed. "You know the villain organization Chimera?"

Izuku flinched. He drew further from the door but stayed, listening and hanging onto every word.

"I've heard of it, yes," All Might said. "Naomasa has told me about it. They're keeping an eye on Chimera—there's suspicions they might be connected with… the League."

"The League?" Eraserhead asked sharply.

"You didn't know?"

Eraserhead cursed. Izuku's heart leapt in his throat, pulsing frantically. Eraserhead paused, then swore again, sounding upset.

"I didn't… the _League?_ "

"Aizawa? What's the matter?"

"I— _dammit,_ " Eraserhead growled. "All Might, I need your help."

"My… help."

"There's a member of Chimera. Mirage."

"Yes. Is he— dangerous?"

Izuku peeked back through the door to see Eraserhead shake his head.

"All Might, I need your help to save him."

"He's…"

"A good villain," Eraserhead said.

"A good villain?"

"He's a kid." Izuku swallowed as he listened. "He's not any older than our students. I don't know how to help him."

"A kid…?"

The shuffling of fabric. Eraserhead sighed. "Like Akatani."

"What can I do?"

Izuku turned to leave but moved too quickly and tripped over his feet. He caught himself and froze. The conversation stopped.

Izuku carefully inched forward, creeping away. A moment later he heard their distant, cautious voices begin again. He exhaled as quietly as he could.

He suddenly remembered it was lunchtime. His stomach gnawed at his insides, but Izuku couldn't tell if it was hunger or hurt.

"Looking for lunch?"

Izuku jumped.

Present Mic laughed. He'd come out of nowhere, a plastic bag on his arm and holding a stack of papers.

"Um," Izuku said.

Present Mic smiled at him. "Care to join, little listener?" He waggled his eyebrows and jerked his chin in the direction of the bag he was carrying. "I've got extra."

"I was just, um," Izuku said, but he thought about going back to the lunchroom and cringed.

"Come on," Present Mic said invitingly, and Izuku's resolve crumbled.

"Okay," he said quietly. He followed his teacher into a different office and found a chair to curl up on. Present Mic dumped his things on an already messy desk and then shoved it aside to make space. He pulled out a wrapped sandwich from his bag and held it out.

Izuku took it gratefully, unwrapping the plastic carefully. Present Mic hummed loudly as he took out two more sandwiches and a bottled drink.

"You were playing that," Izuku said, unbidden.

Present Mic paused.

"That song," Izuku explained, "a few nights ago, weren't you?"

Present Mic beamed.

"You _listen?_ " he asked, nearly shouting, which was Present Mic's typical volume. Izuku bit into his sandwich and nodded. He peeled the plastic back a little more as Present Mic watched, bouncing.

"You've got a good show," Izuku said, feeling a bit embarrassed under Present Mic's gaze. He _was_ a Present Mic fan, of course. "I like to listen when I run."

Present Mic punched a victorious fist in the air. " _Yeah!_ " he crowed, and Izuku felt his mouth twitch in amusement. Present Mic glanced to the side. "Take that, Shouta."

Izuku smothered a laugh. Present Mic seemed to remember he had a student across from him and cleared his throat loudly.

He opened his mouth and then launched into the latest bit of hero gossip. Izuku stopped eating just to stare at Present Mic, unsure of how to react. He was certainly enthusiastic.

Present Mic didn't seem to care that Izuku only nodded or made a wordless noise in response. He was perfectly fine carrying a conversation on without help. It was nice, Izuku thought, not having to talk.

When Present Mic ran out of rumors to share, he just switched topics and kept going. He paused briefly when he remembered he was supposed to be eating, but kept talking in between bites.

Izuku felt more like himself by the time he'd made it through the sandwich and half-a-dozen of Present Mic's stories. He'd smiled once or twice, and Present Mic took that as encouragement to keep going.

"—and then I was like, _bam!_ " Present Mic gushed, gesturing, "but you know, way louder—"

The bell rang. Izuku folded the plastic wrapping neatly and tipped it into the trash can. Present Mic froze, hands mid-air. He lowered them.

"Time for class," Izuku said, the first time he'd spoken since the beginning of lunch.

Present Mic lost some of the excitement he'd exuded, but he beamed at Izuku.

"Thanks for eating lunch with me, kid," he said. His mouth twisted wryfully. "Usually, ah, I'd eat with Eraser but he said he was busy, so I needed someone to keep me company."

"Oh," Izuku said. He stood, then bowed. "Thank you for lunch, Present Mic."

He was sure that Present Mic was telling the truth—Eraserhead was busy, talking to All Might. But he had a nagging suspicion that Present Mic had seeked Izuku out.

Present Mic hesitated in front of the door, then turned to look at him.

Izuku's chest locked.

"Don't," he said. The smile dropped off of Present Mic's face.

"I wasn't going to," Present Mic said seriously, then said, "but I wanted to let you know that you weren't alone."

Izuku dropped his gaze.

"The internships are soon," Present Mic said. "Do you know who you're working with?

Izuku nodded.

"Gran Torino," he replied, "he's a retired pro who worked with—"

He couldn't finish.

"That's alright," Present Mic said kindly. "If you need help, you can ask him. If you don't feel comfortable asking him or if you feel you can't continue your internship, you're allowed to contact us or leave if you need."

"Okay," Izuku said.

Present Mic squeezed his shoulder.

"It's not good to let things fester, alright? But— don't forget to breathe."

Izuku leaned into Present Mic's side for a second. Then he detached himself, shutting away everything he was feeling, and thanked Present Mic again.

Izuku went through the motions for the rest of the day, hands twisting under his desk. In the last class of the day, Midnight walked in and began to pass out whiteboards to each of them. The class murmured their questions.

"Your internships are in a very short period of time," Midnight said, "but there's still one very important thing that is required."

"Not paperwork," someone chanted distantly behind Izuku, "not paperwork, not paperwork."

Midnight threw her arms out, smiling widely. "Hero names!"

"Alright!"

"Oh, I know what mine'll be."

"Time to call my mom…"

Midnight clapped her hands, trying to restore order. "We're going to come up with our hero names and share them with the rest of the class using your whiteboard. Please remember…"

Izuku tuned her out as she explained the importance behind a hero name. He popped the cap off of his marker and held it, hovering over the board.

Some of the class had burst into a heated discussion. Others were writing furiously while Midnight went around, arms behind her back.

Izuku clutched his whiteboard close, making sure no one could see what he wrote on it.

 _Deku,_ he wrote.

Izuku peered at Kacchan over the top of his board. Then he erased _Deku_ , staring thoughtlessly at the blank space in front of him. He wondered if he could leave it like that—just blank. No hero name for a non-hero.

"Anyone finished?"

Kacchan shared without asking, and the class laughed when he flipped his board to reveal the hero name he'd promised to take: _King Explosion Murder._

Midnight, to her credit, only raised her eyebrows. "I think you need something more— reassuring."

Kacchan crossed his arms over his chest. "It's plenty reassuring," he protested, "reassuring my enemies that I'm going to _murder them._ "

Midnight sighed. "We'll come back to you, Bakugou."

A few names were thrown out. Half of them were just for fun. Izuku tapped his marker against the board, frowning. He had to come up with something. Something different. Something new.

"Mine's Froppy, kero," Tsuyu announced, and someone applauded. Midnight smiled.

"A fitting name," Midnight complimented. After that the names seemed to come easier.

Uraraka chose Uravity. Kouda seemed happy with Anivoice. As more of his fellow classmates stood and shared their hero names, Izuku felt more and more pressure set on his shoulders.

Deku was out of the running. Mirage? Certainly not a choice.

None of the names Izuku had wanted when he was younger worked, either. They'd all been ridiculous, modelled after All Might.

Izuku stared at the board, coming up short. Next to him, Todoroki stood and announced "Shouto," voice quiet and name simple.

Thinking of All Might made Izuku remember what his mentor wanted. Izuku had One for All because he'd been given it. Izuku had One for All because All for One was waiting for them at the end of the road. Because All Might had chosen him to be _his_ successor, so that his legacy would outlive him.

Izuku thought of glowing embers and darkness. He thought of eyes that glimmered gold and Hisashi's mouth forming around words that turned into flames.

"Akatani, how about you?"

Izuku stood up and turned his board around.

 _Phoenix,_ he'd written.

"It means something to me," he said before Midnight could give him any feedback.

Midnight looked at his name again. She smiled encouragingly.

"Meaning is important, too."

Todoroki leaned over when Izuku sat down.

"I like it, Akatani."

Izuku shrugged uncomfortably.

He didn't really want to explain it, not yet.

A phoenix rising from the ashes, burning through the fire of his father. A second chance, a rebirth, a legacy. He ran his fingers over the characters and then wiped the name away.

Another name to add to the list.

The internships dawned before Izuku realized. His friends agreed to meet at the train station so they could say goodbye before going their separate ways. Feeling guilty, Izuku had agreed to go—he wouldn't see them for a week.

"I'm really excited," Uraraka said, tapping her foot impatiently. "I'm going to miss you guys."

"You, too," Izuku said automatically, and Uraraka threw her arms around him and squeezed tight.

She pulled back, blushing. Then her expression turned serious.

"Akatani," she started, "just— we're friends, okay? I want to hear from you if you need me."

"Okay," Izuku said quietly. He had no plans to.

"That goes for you, too, Iida," Uraraka said, turning. Iida looked down and away from where he'd been staring into the distance.

"Thank you, Uraraka," Iida said a bit stiffly. "I'll be fine."

Uraraka smiled at the both of them, clutching her bags. "That's my train, guys. I'll… um, see you next week!"

She left Izuku and Iida standing together, waiting for their own trains.

"Look, Iida," Izuku said, "I heard you were going to Hosu—"

"My train is here," Iida said. He bowed. "I'll see you soon, Akatani."

Izuku watched him go and sighed. Alone again. He checked the time and found his own train a few minutes out.

Maybe the internship would be good for him, Izuku thought. A little extra time and space to himself. No All Might, no All for One, no Hisashi. He thought he needed it.

Izuku hefted his duffel bag higher. He glanced at his phone and was grateful to find no new messages or notifications. Hisashi happened to be away on a 'business trip' at the same time as the internships, something he hadn't revealed to Izuku.

An announcement rolled through the station. Izuku spotted the silver nose of a train approach and stepped forward with the other people waiting to catch it. The doors crowded, so Izuku stepped back and took a minute to wait.

"Akatani!"

The call was so quiet that Izuku almost missed it.

"Young Akatani! Mikumi!"

Izuku turned on his heel and saw Toshinori weaving through the station. He ran up to Izuku, pausing to catch his breath.

Izuku stepped back, heart missing a beat. He hadn't seen Toshinori all week—in fact, he'd avoided seeing Toshinori all week. He wasn't ready.

"I wanted to see you before you left," Toshinori said, clutching at his shirt. He straightened. "I wanted to tell you that I… believe in you."

"Believe in yourself," Izuku said.

Toshinori blinked at him. In that instant a thousand words seemed to pass between them.

"I'll try," he said. _I'm sorry,_ he said.

"I'll try," Izuku repeated.

"We'll talk when you get back."

Izuku looked away. "I have to go."

Toshinori reached for him even as he stepped away. Izuku's shirt snagged in a grip, but Izuku felt tears gather when Toshinori put his arms around him.

"Rise, phoenix," Toshinori murmured in his ear.

The train whistled shrilly in warning, and Izuku ran to catch it. The train was packed with people, but Izuku found a spot by the door, holding onto the railing.

The doors shut. Izuku could see Toshinori, alone on the platform looking after him. He lifted his hand in a goodbye, but Izuku couldn't bring himself to wave back.

The train shuddered once and then began to move. As they pulled away Izuku kept watching Toshinori until he disappeared, and even then his image remained in Izuku's mind.


	27. Chapter 27

_**Flare Signal**  
chapter twenty-seven_

* * *

Gran Torino was dead.

Okay, he wasn't _dead_ dead, but when Izuku had cracked open the door and seen the pro hero lying on the floor in a pool of his own blood, he'd certainly thought so.

Izuku took a closer look and saw the rise and fall of Gran Torino's chest and the bright red sticky-looking substance on the floor.

Somewhere in Izuku's tired mind, he processed everything that was happening and promptly decided he wasn't going to deal with it.

There was a plate of sausages lying on the floor. Izuku inched carefully towards it and took a piece. He squinted at Gran Torino, who was _definitely_ faking it, and then turned on his heel and headed back for the door.

"Going somewhere?"

Izuku blinked, and Gran Torino blocked the exit. The blood—or, Izuku figured, ketchup—was still on his costume.

"Uh," Izuku said, "going to find a pro hero who's going to teach me something, yeah."

Gran Torino raised his eyebrows. Izuku looked at him then down at the sausage piece he was still holding and slowly put it in his mouth.

"What's your name, kid?"

Izuku swallowed. "Akatani," he responded, still watching Gran Torino warily. "Akatani Mikumi. I'm from U.A. Also you could've used something more realistic for the blood."

"What blood?" Gran Torino snapped. "I was holding my sausages with ketchup and fell when you came. Made a mess."

Izuku blinked.

"Respectfully, sir, I'd like to leave."

Gran Torino's eyes narrowed. He tilted his head. "You're going to have to get past me, then, Toshinori."

Izuku's breath caught in his throat, but he kept his face blank as he skirted to the left. Gran Torino blocked him.

"Scared?"

"Tired," Izuku replied. "And that's not my name."

He wondered if this was how Eraserhead felt on a daily basis, except instead of a whole classroom of teenagers it was just a strange old guy with a cape.

He tried to go right this time, but Gran Torino held fast.

Izuku curled and uncurled his fingers.

"Stop playing games," Izuku spat. A desperation suddenly gripped him. "Either you help me or I find someone else. I don't have time for games—I _need_ to get better using One for All."

"Do you?"

Gran Torino didn't look impressed or interested. He stuck a finger in some of the ketchup on his suit and put it in his mouth.

"He's running out of time," Izuku shouted, frustrated when he felt his eyes burn at the thought. "Don't you know?"

Gran Torino smiled. It was so unexpected Izuku felt his anger drain.

"There you are, kid. Now, come on. I want to see what you've got," Gran Torino challenged, "show me what you can do with One for All. I heard you were breaking bones."

"Not anymore," Izuku said. He let One for All spread through his body, crackling across his skin, and enjoyed the faint surprise he spotted on Gran Torino's face. It was one thing, he supposed, to see him using One for All sparingly on a screen, and another thing to face it.

Then he made a face. "At least I hope I don't break—"

Izuku yelped when Gran Torino moved. Izuku jerked away on instinct and saw a fist where his face had been. Gran Torino's eyes narrowed.

Gran Torino, Izuku found, was a hard opponent. He looked old, but he sure didn't move like it, zipping around Izuku and bouncing off the walls. Even using Full Cowl, Izuku was hard-pressed to keep up, staying on defense.

Gran Torino launched off a wall, slamming Izuku down. He rolled, but there was a flash and Gran Torino was gone. Izuku darted forwards, dodging an attack from behind and spun.

"You're super fa- _ah,_ " Izuku cried. He managed to catch Gran Torino's wrist and twisted hard, sending Gran Torino flying. It wasn't enough; the retired pro hero simply recovered mid-air and shot back towards him.

Izuku screeched when he was nearly tackled, parrying blow after blow. Gran Torino pressed him back until he was cornered, but Izuku knew it was an advantage—Gran Torino wouldn't be able to attack from behind.

"You lasted longer than I thought you would."

One for All pulsed through his body. Izuku was fast with the addition of One for All, but using Full Cowl was still new to him. He didn't think he could sustain it any longer under Gran Torino's onslaught.

"Don't know," Izuku panted, ducking under a foot, "if that—"

Gran Torino's foot shifted backwards. Izuku saw it move, and something clicked; he dove to the right as Gran Torino lunged forward. Izuku spun on his heel, following with an arm, fist making contact before he pressed Gran Torino against the wall.

"—a compliment or an insult," Izuku finished.

One for All petered out, and the hold Izuku had on Gran Torino weakened; the pro freed himself from Izuku's grip and leapt over his head. Izuku turned, anticipating a blow, but none came.

"Not bad, kid," Gran Torino said. He stretched.

"That was definitely a compliment?"

"Seems All Might's not a terrible teacher."

Izuku's mouth twisted. "Well," he said, "maybe a little."

Gran Torino snorted. "Three minutes."

"Huh?"

"You lasted three minutes."

"What?"

Gran Torino clicked his tongue. "Do you know how to tell time, young man?"

"What— _yeah_?"

The old hero surveyed Izuku for a minute, then jerked his chin in a different direction. "Let's break."

Izuku relaxed. He followed Gran Torino dutifully, the two of them sitting cross-legged on the floor away from the ketchup.

"Clean that up," Gran Torino ordered. Izuku bristled, though he knew it was disrespectful, and went to do as he was told.

"You're the one who was playing dead," Izuku grumbled, but he wiped the ketchup off the floor with a cloth.

"I wasn't playing dead," Gran Torino called after him. "And you're my intern, so you have to do what I tell you."

"What's next, a full-body massage?"

"Don't tempt me."

Izuku decided to stop talking.

"You're certainly better off than I thought," Gran Torino said. "Earlier this semester All Might called panicking 'cause you broke your arm."

Izuku shrugged. "A couple times."

Gran Torino smacked his forehead. "Idiot."

He made an indignant noise. "I couldn't _help_ it—"

"All Might, not you," Gran Torino said, "though maybe you're a bit of an idiot, too, boy. He doesn't know how to teach."

Izuku sprawled out on the ground, testing Gran Torino's limits and wondering if he'd be scolded for it, but Gran Torino didn't seem to mind.

"He told me to clench my butt," Izuku muttered. Gran Torino barked out a laugh, rolling his eyes.

"Useless."

"That's rude."

"Did it help?"

"...Not really," Izuku admitted.

"It always came easier to him," Gran Torino said, catching Izuku's curious look. "One for All, that is. When he got it he could use it right away. You've got a bit of a learning curve."

Izuku covered his face. "A bit of a learning curve," he moaned. "Why is All Might perfect?"

"He can't cook for his life," Gran Torino said.

"Not even rice?"

"Didn't put enough water," Gran Torino said dismissively. Izuku frowned.

"But all you do is—"

"Exactly!"

"Huh," Izuku muttered to himself. Gran Torino laughed.

"He's a great hero, sure," Gran Torino pointed out, "but as a civilian? Absolutely useless. Saving people was easy for him, but Nana had to beat saving money into his thick head for a while."

"What… what did he spend it on?"

"You don't want to know."

Izuku sighed. He rolled his shoulders back, feeling his muscles ache slightly.

"I'm not good enough."

Gran Torino arched an eyebrow. "Give yourself credit, kid."

Bonestealer wouldn't have said that. They'd demand that he work harder, be better—there was no such thing as a break to them.

"I couldn't beat you."

"I've got decades of experience on you," Gran Torino countered, tilting his head, "and you got a few blows in. That's not half-bad."

Izuku sighed. If he couldn't beat Bonestealer, or even Gran Torino, he stood no chance against All for One. He'd be crushed like a little annoying fly.

"What's the big deal?" Gran Torino asked, catching Izuku's look.

"I can't even use all of One for All," Izuku said, lowering his eyes, "and I can't keep it going for that long, either."

"So that's what we'll work on. We'll get you to a higher output and try to sustain it consistently for longer."

"I know, but…"

Gran Torino kicked his ankle. Izuku's words died in his throat, but he glared across at the hero.

"You're already on your way. Sure, time is not on your side," Gran Torino said gruffly. "But you've got— ugh, potential. Even if One for All came to All Might naturally, he didn't become who he is overnight. You're not going to— what's your hero name?"

"Phoenix," Izuku said. He tried to be confident, but it came out wobbly.

"Takes five hundred years for those to rise again," Gran Torino said. "No one will wait for you to get stronger, so you need to get stronger quickly, but even that will take some time."

"All Might doesn't have time," Izuku said.

Gran Torino studied him, gaze intense.

"What did he say to you?"

"Nothing."

Gran Torino snorted. "You know he called me a few days ago asking for advice. He's usually too proud and too stubborn to ask for help, thinks he can do everything himself. He had to have done _something_ , the idiot. Besides, it's years of radio silence, but after he met you he was calling me all the time. Actually have to pay attention to my phone bill again."

Izuku inhaled then exhaled again. "It's not his fault."

Gran Torino kicked him again.

" _Ow,_ " Izuku yelped. "Why are all the old people in my life like this?"

"Who are the others?"

Izuku pouted. "Recovery Girl."

"Now there's a woman you don't mess with." Gran Torino nodded approvingly, then switched back to the topic. "What did he say?"

Izuku tugged at his sleeve, feeling guilt swell in his chest.

"He told me about… he told me about—" he choked, "All for One."

Talking about it, saying the name out loud for the first time since the argument didn't help. It only made him feel worse. Izuku could feel himself slipping down the slope again, scrabbling for a purchase but finding none.

Gran Torino kicked him again.

"Will you stop that?" Izuku grumbled.

"I'll stop when you stop."

Izuku frowned. Gran Torino frowned back.

"He shouldn't have told you."

 _Doesn't matter,_ Izuku wanted to say, _I already knew._

Instead he said, "It's better that I know."

Gran Torino clicked his tongue disapprovingly. He shook his head. "You're not ready to know about him. Of course you deserve to know, but that— you can't be expected to… face him."

"How…" Izuku swallowed. His voice grew small. "How powerful is he, Gran Torino?"

Gran Torino looked uncomfortable.

"I don't know," he said shortly, "he's lived for a long time, that one. All Might weakened him, but he's very powerful if he's found a way to crawl back from the underbelly."

"And… how powerful is All Might?"

Gran Torino paused. The answer was there, and it made Izuku want to cry. He didn't, holding the tears back, not wanting Gran Torino to see.

"Enough," Gran Torino said, crossing his arms over his chest. His brow creased. "Get up, kid. Break over. Let's go another round."

Izuku hauled himself up.

"But," he said, then stopped himself.

Obediently Izuku activated One for All, marvelling at how freely he could use it without the weight of secrecy on his shoulders.

They fought a few more rounds.

Izuku didn't _feel_ like he was getting any better. Gran Torino landed blow after blow, while Izuku's hits only glanced off, if not missed Gran Torino entirely. One for All sputtered; his control slipped. Blood was warm in his mouth.

Izuku gritted his teeth, frustrated. He hadn't been lying.

There was a different and simmering anger now that hadn't existed in the past few days. Not the same one at Toshinori, for what he'd said, or at himself, for what he hadn't. This anger came from failure.

Gran Torino watched him from the other side of the room. His costume was easy to spot, but he was impossibly fast. Gran Torino's eyes flicked to a spot by Izuku.

This time, Izuku charged towards him and not away. He met Gran Torino on the spot instead of where he had been, and Izuku felt a rush of satisfaction when he landed a heavy blow powered with One for All that sent Gran Torino blasting back towards the far wall.

Gran Torino hit the wall hard, and Izuku's satisfaction gave way to concern and guilt—pro hero or not, _God,_ Izuku had hit his elder. Then Gran Torino recovered enough to punch Izuku in the face, and Izuku stopped feeling bad.

The victory was short-lived, though. Gran Torino was fond of games, dancing around Izuku quickly and making him feel awfully slow in comparison. Izuku wasn't being beaten into the ground, but he wasn't making spectacular progress either.

Gran Torino landed in front of Izuku.

He brought his arms up to block, but the hero didn't attack.

"Stop holding yourself back," Gran Torino instructed.

Izuku lowered his arms slightly, then brought them back up to parry a quick blow.

"I'm not," he said, peeking between his wrists. Gran Torino put his hands on his hips, and Izuku dropped his defense when it looked like they were done for now.

"You are."

"Not like I used to," Izuku argued.

"No," Gran Torino agreed, "but you're still stuck somewhere. Break."

"We're not done," Izuku protested, but Gran Torino silenced him with a withering look.

"Are you in charge, boy?"

"No, sir," Izuku said, and Gran Torino snorted. He glanced outside. It was already late afternoon by now.

They took a break. Izuku made tea and served them while Gran Torino regaled him with a few tales. He wasn't sure half of them were true (once, Gran Torino said, he'd fought a giant octopus with a steak knife then carved his way through an underground crime ring), but they were at the very least amusing.

Izuku found he liked Gran Torino. He was a bit strange but funny, and his age hadn't slowed him down one bit. The internship had come at the right time to give Izuku a little bit of breathing space, a short reprieve before Izuku was thrown back into the thick of things. It was selfish, Izuku thought, but needed.

"Can I ask you something?"

Gran Torino looked up. He was sprawled on the couch in a set of comfortable-looking clothes. He sighed.

"If you have to."

"Did he kill her?"

Gran Torino sat up. He leaned forward, alarm flashing across his face—Izuku was touching a dangerous subject, but he had to know.

"Who?"

Gran Torino knew, but Izuku said it anyway for the both of them.

"All for One," he said. "Did he kill Shimura Nana?"

Gran Torino let out a long sigh. The energy left him, and he sank back into the pillows, thinking.

"Sorry," Izuku said, "I shouldn't have asked."

Gran Torino waved the apology away. He stroked his chin for a moment, his eyes far away.

"Yes," he said finally, and there was a softness there that Izuku hadn't seen from him all day.

"I'm— sorry."

Gran Torino scoffed. "You've got nothing to apologize for. Ah… she would've liked to meet you."

He got up suddenly and shuffled into another room, then reappeared holding a picture. Izuku took it gingerly, then gasped.

"That's—"

"Hm," Gran Torino grunted. Izuku studied it. There was Gran Torino, and All Might—young, but he had the same smile. And there was Shimura Nana, hair pulled back, eyes sharp, lift to her lips.

"She's beautiful," Izuku said. Suddenly he was scared to hold the picture. "Ah— why did you show me?"

Gran Torino took it back. He shrugged.

"So you could see," he said, "something to fight for, if you want."

Izuku stared at the edge of the table. Toshinori must've been lonely, then. He still was.

"Did he kill all of them?"

Gran Torino's eyes flitted to his face.

"The wielders," Izuku said, anger stirring in a bottomless pot, "did he kill all of them?"

"Why do you ask these questions?"

"Did he?" Izuku pressed, determined not to be dodged.

"...Yes."

So All for One would want to kill All Might, too. Almost had. But he hadn't seemed interested in killing Izuku, not even after he'd realized the power Izuku held.

"Are all of you so annoying?"

Izuku startled. "Huh?"

Gran Torino sniffed. "Children. Are all of them as annoying as you?"

"Oh‚ oh, sorry!" He must have been muttering. It was good Izuku tended to be unintelligible most of the time.

Shigaraki would certainly kill Izuku given the chance. But All for One seemed to have other plans.

What had he said? _You're just like him._

Like who, Izuku wanted to know.

"Can I ask you another question?"

"That _was_ another question."

"Another, other question."

Gran Torino sighed, eyes rolling up towards the ceiling.

"Why did I agree to this," he grumbled, but he didn't say anything else. Izuku took that as an invitation.

"Toshi— All Might said there was something called… vestiges," Izuku ventured, "like… the remnants of past holders in One for All. Do you… know anything about that?"

Gran Torino looked surprised. "You saw them?"

Izuku nodded, unsure.

"At- at the Sports Festival," he clarified, "I saw them. T- All Might said it was normal, but I don't think they… I don't think it was the same as what he was thinking."

"What did they look like?"

"I couldn't really make them out," Izuku said, the words tumbling from his mouth. "They weren't, well, they were like, shadows. But one of them… one of them spoke to me."

Gran Torino leaned closer. " _Spoke?_ "

Izuku flinched back, a little wary of the attention. "Ye- yeah."

Gran Torino was shaking his head. He rubbed at his chin, then moved his fingers to scratch at his head.

"Spoke?" he asked again, quieter. Izuku nodded. "What did they say?"

Izuku shrugged uncomfortably. He'd never made sense of it himself.

That started a round of questioning for the rest of the day. Gran Torino asked him thorough questions about his use of One for All; Izuku took out his notebook, running through his own observations. They talked through his power output and Full Cowl. Ways he could use it or concentrate it.

"We'll spar again tomorrow," Gran Torino said decisively. "I still think you're holding yourself back. You're too—nervous. Or scared."

Izuku smiled weakly. "I'm always nervous and scared."

"Well, quit it."

Izuku coughed. "I don't think it's that easy. Sir."

"Stop calling me that," Gran Torino snapped, "I feel old."

"You… are?"

"What are you scared of?"

Izuku shrugged with one shoulder, evading the question, but Gran Torino pinned him with a stare. He had a way of doing that, Izuku thought. He'd zip around you in circles, circling tighter and tighter like a shark. Izuku saw it in his movements and in the way he watched Izuku.

"A lot of things," Izuku said honestly.

"You're scared of One for All."

"I'm not," Izuku said.

Gran Torino barked out a laugh, but he had Izuku in his grip.

"One for All," he guessed, "and rightfully All for One. And I've got a hunch that you're scared of All Might."

The name was enough to make Izuku felt like he'd been dealt a physical blow. He tried to hide it, but Gran Torino saw the momentary flash of weakness.

"It's not his anymore," Gran Torino said.

Izuku frowned.

"One for All. It's not his anymore, kid. It's yours." Gran Torino stood and stretched. He cocked his head at Izuku.

Izuku sat, thinking. "But…"

"What are you going to do with it?"

Izuku didn't have anything to say to that.

Gran Torino showed Izuku to his room, small and plain but comfortable. Izuku dragged his bag inside, sighing.

"I don't care what you do," Gran Torino said. "But don't make a fuss. We'll be getting up early to train, so if you don't sleep that's your fault. And _don't_ bother me."

He left without a goodbye. Izuku circled the room, playing with the hem of his shirt. Izuku wasn't sure how early was _early_ , but he'd need to get some rest if today was any indicator.

Izuku got himself ready for bed. The floor was hard but not uncomfortable, and Izuku drew his blanket up.

He reached mindlessly for his phone. It buzzed suddenly, and Izuku dropped his phone on his face.

He groaned, plucking it off and checking the notification.

 **Hisashi, 11:21 PM** _  
Where are you?_

Izuku frowned at the sudden message. He'd informed Hisashi where his internship was before they'd both left. Hisashi should have known.

 **You, 11:22 PM**  
 _Why?_

 **Hisashi, 11:23 PM**  
 _You're not in Hosu?_

A cold feeling gripped Izuku.

 _No,_ he typed back. _Is something wrong?_

Hisashi didn't answer for a while. Izuku sighed, but then his phone buzzed.

 **Hisashi, 11:30 PM**  
 _Stay away._

It was the last message Hisashi sent. He didn't respond to any of Izuku's following questions, so Izuku sighed and put the phone aside. It was time to sleep, anyway.

He shut his eyes and found himself restless. Izuku laid in the dark, breathing deeply. He focused on his other senses and suddenly realized he could hear Gran Torino speaking.

He caught a few words—Gran Torino was on the phone, then. He was speaking quietly enough so that Izuku couldn't hear what he was saying.

Izuku rolled over, trying not to listen, but Gran Torino's voice grew louder and suddenly it was unavoidable. It was Toshinori, Izuku gleaned, and the mention jolted Izuku into wakefulness.

"You told the boy about All for One," Gran Torino shouted down the line. "You think you'd have a bit more tact by now! Why in your right mind do you—"

He was cut off for a bit.

"It doesn't matter if— no, it doesn't matter— yes, your boy is, I don't care. He wasn't ready and you knew it, but you still told him. You messed up, Toshi!"

Izuku could hear Gran Torino pacing back and forth, quick, heavy strides that sounded angry. Izuku winced, turning on his side and drawing the blanket up higher so he felt safer.

"You called," Gran Torino growled. Izuku screwed his eyes shut. "You called, and you never call. And you asked, no, you _begged_ me to keep an eye on this boy because you— because you… _yes._ How did you think he would react, idiot? He asked about Nana."

There was a long stretch of silence. Izuku thought that it must be quiet on the other end, too. Something heavy had filled the room. Izuku shifted uncomfortably, feeling the pressure.

"...I supposed to do, lie?"

A beat.

"And what is _he_ supposed to do?" Gran Torino asked, his voice so soft Izuku had to strain to hear it. "You can't make the boy give up before he's even started."

Another beat.

"He's smart, I'll give him that," Gran Torino said, "and he certainly didn't learn anything from you. That Full Cowl of his I'll bet he put together himself."

Izuku rolled over again and missed the next piece of conversation, but then Gran Torino was silent for a long time. Izuku blinked in the darkness and wondered if the wielders would come to him again, but the shadows didn't shift. One for All slumbered, silent.

 _What are you going to do with it?_

Izuku had spent a lifetime dreaming of saving people, of helping them. That hadn't changed, but Izuku had.

He closed his eyes for the last time and dreamed of fire bursting behind his lids. Not Hisashi's, but his own, golden and bright.

Izuku wondered if all of the other wielders had been asked that at some point. Gifted with an extraordinary power to put to use. To do good, to fight All for One even if it killed them.

Toshinori was only tracing the path he thought he was on—to death. Like his predecessor, Shimura, and her predecessor and all those who had come before.

Then Izuku would follow in their footsteps, but it would be different this time. He would not have Toshinori die for Izuku to live anew—no, they would rise together, cresting in the darkness.


	28. Chapter 28

**Flare Signal** _  
chapter twenty-eight_

* * *

"We're done training."

Izuku let his head thud back onto the ground. He groaned. "Finally."

Gran Torino appeared in Izuku's vision. "I said we were done training, not that we were done."

Izuku stretched out on the floor that Gran Torino had wiped him with. He rolled over and then sat up. Toshinori hadn't been kidding. Gran Torino was tough.

"Where to?"

Gran Torino knocked Izuku's head as he passed. "Clean up. We're going to Shinjuku."

Izuku scrambled to his feet. "Huh?"

Gran Torino spun around. "You're done fighting me, boy. You'll get too used to it. What you need is some practice fighting real villains."

"Real," Izuku coughed, "real vill… real villains."

"Nothing you can't handle."

"Are… are you sure?"

All the villains Izuku knew were— well, powerful enough that Izuku wasn't exactly ready to go toe-to-toe with them.

"Bah," Gran Torino said, "they'll be a lot easier to beat than me."

Then quieter, he muttered, "Toshinori would have my hide if you got hurt."

"What?"

"What," Gran Torino grumbled. "Did you say something?"

"Did _you_ say something?"

"What did I say?"

"Nothing," Izuku muttered, throwing his hands up and letting it go. "Are we going now?"

"Nighttime," Gran Torino said.

"Oh! Because they'll be more active at night."

Gran Torino grunted. "No, because I want to take a nap first. That, too, I guess."

Gran Torino really did take a nap, so Izuku spent the afternoon training by himself, activating One for All and racing around outside to see how long he could make it last. Inside, he sat in the room Gran Torino had provided and tried to meditate, calling up One for All to see if he could summon the wielders again.

Nothing seemed to work. Izuku felt like he was tapping on a piece of glass in his own mind.

 _Are you there?_

He thought back to the Sports Festival, when he had seen them. It'd been under Shinsou's influence—he'd summoned One for All, and the world had gone topsy-turvy when they appeared.

Izuku wanted desperately to see the wielders again. He wanted to speak to them, to ask them their advice. Did they hate him? Were they proud of him? Did they see him, see his heart?

Even more desperately he wished he could meet Shimura Nana. Izuku hadn't known it was possible to miss someone he'd never met, but he missed her. Missed all of them, like some part of him knew they belonged here with him.

Izuku would see them again someday, when it was time. He sighed.

It was early evening when Gran Torino called a taxi to take them to the train station. By the time they'd get to Shinjuku, it would be the perfect time to do some patrolling.

Izuku bounced his leg nervously, glancing out the window as the buildings around them blurred with speed.

"We'll pass through Hosu, won't we?"

Gran Torino grunted. He still looked half-asleep, but Izuku could tell that he wasn't by the way his muscles were tense and his eyes kept flickering from place to place.

Izuku suddenly remembered Iida had taken his internship in Hosu and reached for his phone. He sent a few texts, biting his lip, but saw no response.

"Damn," Izuku muttered under his breath.

The hero-killer was in Hosu. Iida had gone there to track him down, to fight him—he'd get himself killed.

Dread was starting to seep into his bones. Izuku texted Iida frantically again, then saw in his recent messages the ones Hisashi had sent him a few nights ago. He hadn't heard from his father since, but Izuku opened the chat again and looked at the texts.

 _Stay away._

Hisashi, on a business trip in Hosu. _Stay away,_ meaning something was going to happen that he didn't want Izuku there for.

Izuku lurched to his feet unsteadily. Gran Torino's eyes snapped towards him, as did a few others, but Izuku shook his head.

"Gran Torino," he said.

The sound of shattering glass. Izuku was thrown to the side; he caught his balance, Quirk flaring as he grabbed a nearby civilian to keep her from falling. Screams rose.

A pro hero lay stunned on the floor of the train, but he quickly got up, launching himself out. Seconds later a grotesque creature appeared, metal screeching as it clawed into the train.

Izuku couldn't breathe.

"Nomu," he whispered.

He was distantly aware that One for All was sparking against his skin, that the civilians were fleeing the train car. But he couldn't make himself move. It was like seeing the Nomu had suddenly frozen him in place.

Gran Torino turned to look at him.

"Stay _here,_ " he growled.

The Nomu screeched, and Gran Torino tackled it, the two flying into the darkness.

"Stay here," Izuku murmured to himself.

He could move again. One for All hummed louder, and Izuku launched himself out of the train, dropping onto a nearby rooftop and beginning his journey.

"Sorry, Gran Torino," Izuku said, darting off in a different direction. "I'm not very good at doing what I'm told."

He checked his phone again as he ran blindly. Hosu was burning. Smoke and scattered light drifted in the distance, accompanied by sound.

If not Hisashi, then the Nomu.

And Stain was in Hosu, too. He had to be. Izuku hadn't looked into him as much as he should have, but Iida's brother had been attacked in an alley.

He used One for All sparingly in short bursts. Izuku knew he had to save it and use it as needed.

"Hold on, Iida," Izuku murmured.

He could suddenly see his friend in his mind's eye, body bent at all the wrong angles and blood pooling under him.

The thought spurred him on. Izuku raced, faster and faster, deeper and deeper into the city. He saw figures in a flickering fire and threw himself down into the fray only to find himself face-to-face with a battleground.

Izuku moved. He dove for a civilian, dragging the man out of the way as a Nomu and pro hero wrestled.

"Stay safe," Izuku said.

He spotted the pro hero—one of Endeavor's sidekicks—struggling as the Nomu overpowered her. The Nomu croaked when Izuku slammed into it, One for All crackling.

"Stay out of this, kid!" the hero shouted. Someone else joined the fight as Izuku left it, tearing himself away. His body screamed for him to return, to help fight the Nomu, but he had to have faith the pro heroes had it handled.

He needed to find Iida.

"Hold on," Izuku said, slipping through alley after alley. "I'm coming."

Time was slipping away from him. His heart pounded in his chest as he searched Hosu desperately for signs of either his enemy or his friend but found nothing.

Tears stung Izuku's eyes. He couldn't tell if they were from frustration or from the smoke.

He stopped on a rooftop, digging his phone out to see if there were any updates. In a desperate bid he called Hisashi and started his search anew.

The phone rang.

Izuku wiped the sweat from his face. Another alley, empty.

The phone rang and rang.

"Iida," Izuku said, "Iida, please."

The last words they had spoken to each other had been before the internships, at the train station. Izuku could still see the storm brewing in Iida's eyes, the cruel glare of his glasses.

The phone cut to voicemail, a horrible crackle and a long beep—

Distant firelight glinted off of a line of metal—

One for All _roared_ as Izuku dropped silently from the sky, knocking a blade from Stain's hand and snapping it. In the same moment he drew his own knife, arm rocketing forwards.

"And who's this?"

Izuku panted when their blades met. His slid when Stain overpowered him, and Izuku leapt back to avoid being cut.

"Akatani!"

"Don't," Izuku growled, breathing hard, "touch my friend."

"Akatani," Iida cried again. "Don't— Akatani, stop this!"

"I am stopping this, Iida."

"Another fake?" Stain called, eyeing his new opponent warily. Behind his back, Izuku pressed _send_ on a set of mass texts.

At his feet, Iida was struggling weakly. His glasses were broken and askew; his eyes were full of tears as he stared up at Izuku. In the corner of the alley, another shadowed figure was propped against the wall, costume stained. A pro hero.

"I'm here to stop you," Izuku said, "so jot that down, Stain."

Stain crouched. He surveyed Izuku, eyes hungry and wild.

"Brave," he jeered.

"Iida," Izuku said, though he suspected he knew the answer, "can you move?"

"No," Iida choked out. "Akatani—"

"Stain's Quirk immobilizes people," the pro called. Izuku recognized him—Native. "Get out of here before he gets you, too, kid."

Izuku re-activated One for All, the rush of power nearly dizzying.

"And if I refuse to leave?"

Stain laughed. "I'll kill your friend. What will you do, little hero?"

"Akatani, leave! This is my fight."

"It's mine now," Izuku said flatly. He shifted a foot back. Stain mirrored him, dagger appeared after a flick of his fingers.

"This has nothing to do with you!"

Izuku gritted his teeth.

Stain lunged forward. Izuku leapt, ready, twisting as One for All pulsed through his arm. Power poured through his fist, and there was a loud crack as Izuku sent Stain flying backwards.

"Iida," Izuku said, "being a hero means involving yourself in other people's problems."

Stain climbed to his feet, limbs long and lanky. He didn't look quite human as he got up.

"I see," Stain said slowly, nodding. He cocked his head at Izuku like he was seeing Izuku in a different light.

"Help is coming," Izuku reassured the others, fervently hoping it was true.

Izuku forced Stain back. He charged, sliding between Stain's legs and then leaping again like he'd seen Kacchan do a thousand times. Stain turned, but not fast enough to stop the boot right to his face. Izuku ducked under his guard and jerked his hand up. His knife cut through fabric, shining with blood.

"I've got you," Stain said. A long tongue poked out through his teeth as he drew his dagger up. One for All flared, but it was too late. Stain dragged his tongue along the side of his knife, and Izuku felt his limbs lock.

He strained against the effects of Stain's Quirk.

"Blood, huh?" Izuku forced out, though the words were hard.

Stain smiled. It was not the wide, toothy smile he had shown Izuku earlier but one that seemed more genuine, or sympathetic.

"It's a shame," Stain said, "you seem to be one of the real ones. It was a good try."

He stepped past Izuku. Izuku fought harder against the hold, shouting wordlessly as Stain stalked slowly towards Iida's prone body.

"Help," Izuku whispered.

He closed his eyes, begging for a response, but One for All did not answer. Izuku shouted, fighting, but he couldn't overcome the effects of Stain's Quirk.

"No," Izuku cried out. "Iida, get _up_!"

"You're no hero," Stain said lowly. He raised his katana. Izuku screamed Iida's name. He wasn't— he couldn't save him—

Stain reared back as fire lit up the alley. Izuku sobbed when the flames dissipated to reveal Todoroki standing protectively over Iida, fire flickering over his side. He raised a hand and sent a wave of ice spiraling towards Stain, forcing him back further.

Todoroki glanced sideways at him.

"I got your text," he said, mouth shifting. "Sorry I'm late. You were a little vague, Akatani."

"Better late than dead," Izuku said. "And I was facing down a villain. Didn't have time to explain."

Todoroki crouched over Iida, assessing him, then moved further so he was standing by Izuku.

"Alright?"

"Don't let him cut you," Izuku gasped, "if he ingests your blood, it'll immobilize you."

Todoroki nodded once.

"Todoroki! Not you, too!"

"Shut up," Izuku snapped, the fear fusing into anger. "You don't tell us what to do."

Stain lunged forwards again, but Todoroki sent him back with a wave of his hand. Todoroki clenched his fist, eyes narrowing.

"If you can stall him," Izuku said, "it might be long enough for us to break free. We can help."

Todoroki nodded.

Though he knew Todoroki could handle himself, Izuku hated the feeling of helplessness that washed over him as he watched Todoroki go toe-to-toe with Stain. Izuku strained against the Quirk again and felt his fingers shift just slightly. One for All sparked, and he tried again. His fingers shook as he curled them inwards into a fist.

He was close. He was close.

Todoroki blocked the alley with a wall of ice. One shattered under Stain's knife, but another one rose in its place. From his vantage point Izuku could see what Todoroki couldn't—that Stain was going to break through and—

"Todoroki!"

Stain drove his dagger down, and Todoroki couldn't move fast enough to get out of its way. Izuku shoved them, sending Todoroki spinning out of the way even as a long cut appeared on his arm.

"Thanks," Todoroki said in his ear, then yanked Izuku back as Stain leapt towards them again.

"So," Izuku said between breaths, thinking, "either the effects lost potency as it thinned out with the number of targets or the Quirk affects different blood types differently."

"Smart," Stain praised. "It does work by blood type."

"We need to keep them safe," Todoroki said, jerking his hand backward to point at who he was referring to.

Izuku nodded grimly. "We can keep a distance so he doesn't get us with his Quirk. I can move in closer if need be, and you can hold him off."

"Guys," Iida said weakly. "This—"

"What are you _waiting_ for, Iida?"

"I told my father," Todoroki said. Blades of ice shot from his fingers. "The pro heroes should be on their way."

"Good," Izuku said shortly.

He fired up One for All again and raced forward, matching Stain. They exchanged blows; Todoroki called his name and Izuku dropped to the ground, rolling as fire raged over his head. Then he was up again, keeping the pressure on Stain and pushing him further and further.

"Akatani, Todoroki, stop risking your lives for me!"

"It's what heroes do," Todoroki said. Stain narrowly dodged a pillar of ice; Izuku came in from the other side, and Todoroki trapped him again.

"It's what friends do," Izuku called over his shoulder. Sweat trickled down the back of his neck. He gripped his knife tightly, One for All humming.

"Stop this!"

"Stop it yourse— gah!"

Izuku flung himself backward but felt a sharp sting in his leg. He went down as Stain was forced to retreat again by Todoroki, but his friend couldn't stop the villain from putting the tip of his katana to his mouth. Izuku felt the now-familiar feeling of restraint descending down on him again.

"Sorry," he croaked, and Todoroki acknowledged the apology.

"You're fine," he said. "I can hold him a little longer for you."

Todoroki could, but—

Izuku could tell he was running out of steam, too. They both were. He could feel One for All beginning to strain his body, could feel the warning signs. Todoroki looked tired. He'd used both aspects of his Quirk, something incredibly draining, and Izuku could tell he was going to burn out soon.

"Help is coming," Izuku said.

"Help is coming," Todoroki repeated.

"Todoroki… Akatani…"

Todoroki whirled. His eyes flashed. "Get up, Iida. You're not acting like a hero at all."

"Todoroki!"

Todoroki turned on his heel and threw an arm out. Ice poured from it, but it was less. Weaker. Another wall formed. Another few precious seconds of time.

"Iida," Todoroki began, "who do you _want_ to be? If you want to be a hero, you're going to have to fight for it."

The wall of ice shattered. Stain tore through it, blades shining in the light. Time seemed to slow as Stain dropped from the sky.

This time, it wasn't Izuku who rushed in to save Todoroki. Iida burst into motion in a flash. He rammed into the katana, snapping the blade into pieces, and stood, tall and firm.

Izuku smiled.

"I'm sorry for being so foolish," Iida apologized, "but… both of you… you made me see what I did wrong. I want to be a hero like my brother. I want to help people."

"Ingenium!" Izuku shouted, warmth swelling in his chest.

"No," Stain growled. Iida and Todoroki glanced at each other, moving so they could stand together.

"No," Stain said again, "people like you don't change this quickly. I will take you _down._ "

Iida shot forward, faster than Izuku had ever seen him. Todoroki burst into flames, keeping up the attack.

Izuku felt movement return to him and raced into the fight.

"Akatani—"

"Together," Izuku said.

"Together," Iida nodded. They flew forwards at the same time, One for All pulsing through Izuku's veins. The full force of Iida's Quirk followed by a punch with One for All took Stain down.

His body dropped, limp. Izuku stared at it, not daring to hope.

"He's—"

"Not yet," Iida said, gripping Izuku's arm. "Careful."

Stain lurched forward, fingers scrabbling for his knife then sending it forwards in Iida's direction. Izuku and Todoroki moved at the same time; Izuku threw himself in front of Iida and felt something tear past skin as ice crystallized around them. His shoulder burned.

"Akatani!"

Iida grabbed him, lugging Izuku backwards. The world spun.

"Ow," Izuku said, the only response he could think of.

"You're injured," Todoroki said, kneeling carefully. He tore off a bit of cloth and wrapped it around Izuku's shoulder.

"So are you," Izuku said. He staggered to his feet again. "Take care of Stain. Make sure he stays down. I'm fine."

Native, now free of the influence of Stain's Quirk, rushed over.

"Let me help," he said.

"Akatani!"

"Todoroki, Akatani," Iida started.

" _Akatani!_ "

There was a blur in front of him. Izuku reached for his knife then recognized the face of Gran Torino. The pro hero gripped the front of Izuku's shirt.

"What the hell were you thinking," Gran Torino shouted.

"That I needed to help my friend?"

Gran Torino narrowed his eyes at Izuku. He turned and took in the situation and seemed to realize that the body Todoroki was dragging was none other than Stain, the hero-killer.

"Idiot," he spat, supporting Izuku. "If you weren't hurt, brat, I'd kick your butt."

"Next time," Izuku offered. They moved out of the alley as their back-up appeared.

"Huh," Izuku said, rolling his head over to look at Todoroki. "Still better late?"

"Better late than dead," Todoroki said, and he was smiling.

"I'm sorry I let you down," Iida said. He wiped at his eyes. "I wasn't being heroic at all. I'm sorry I let my emotions get the better of me."

"I'm sorry I wasn't there to support yoo," Izuku said.

"Pull yourself together, class president," Todoroki said, "you can do better now."

Iida breathed in then out roughly. Gran Torino continued nagging in Izuku's ear. The more he went on, the more he sounded like Recovery Girl.

"When Toshinori hears about this…"

"I will," Iida said.

"Not to mention, the absolute insolence…"

Gran Torino tensed. Izuku tensed, too, feeling the danger press around them.

"Get down!"

There was a flapping noise. Izuku felt the ground disappear under his feet and realized it was getting further and further. A scream was hooked out of his throat. Someone shouted his name as his vision went dark for a moment.

When it returned, Izuku's friends were distant and faraway. Fire flickered, but Izuku was too high up. The flapping was louder, and Izuku felt his shoulder burn in pain as claws dug tightly into it. He twisted in the grip of his captor and caught a glimpse of the red, leathery wings of a Nomu before it stole him away into the night.


	29. Chapter 29

**Flare Signal** _  
chapter twenty-nine_

* * *

No matter how much Izuku struggled, twisting back and forth in the Nomu's grip, he couldn't break free. After a few terrifying swoops over the tops of buildings, Izuku stopped fighting. It wasn't any use wasting energy, not when he had no chance of winning.

They suddenly plummeted. Izuku's stomach jumped to his throat, and the sound that left his mouth was snatched away by the wind.

His feet hit concrete, then his knees. Izuku caught himself with his hand, the impact jarring, and pain welled along his palm. Above, he could hear the Nomu flapping still, the periods between the beats growing longer as it slowed. He could still feel its sharp gaze locked on him.

Izuku reached back. Touched his shoulder and felt blood seeping through the wrapping on it.

"You're not supposed to be here."

Izuku shoved himself to his feet. He met Shigaraki's gaze evenly, though internally Izuku was shaking. He wanted to know if his friends were okay, if the people and civilians in Hosu were being taken care of in the midst of the Nomu attack.

He glanced up at the Nomu, still circling.

"You should've told it that."

Shigaraki's eyes flashed with anger. He stomped his foot childishly.

"I'm surprised you're not out there," Izuku commented mildly. He took a step back towards the edge of the roof, and then cried out when the Nomu dove over his head, claws streaking across the top of his hair in warning. "Causing destruction, fighting heroes, your favorite."

Shigaraki sniffed in disdain. "I don't need to be."

"Hiding, huh?"

Shigaraki growled. Izuku hissed, suddenly aware that he had nowhere to run. _And_ that he was _slightly_ injured, so maybe provoking his ally-enemy was probably not the brightest idea Izuku had.

"Tomura," Kurogiri said flatly. Shigaraki's mouth flattened into a line, but he didn't say anything.

Izuku cleared his throat and jerked his hand back, pointing in a random direction that was anywhere but here. "Well, then, I'm just going to, uh… leave now. See you later?"

Shigaraki cocked his head. "I didn't say you could _leave._ "

"I'm giving myself permission to leave."

"Unfortunately," Shigaraki said, taking a threatening step forwards, "you're not going anywhere unless I say you are."

Izuku held up his hands in surrender. "Okay. Okay. Cool. Yeah."

He laughed nervously, knowing he'd just pushed his luck a bit too far.

"Do you like Stain's work, Midoriya?"

"Not—" Izuku swallowed, wondering if he'd be punished for the answer. "—particularly?"

Shigaraki frowned. He stepped a little closer, but he didn't seem to be unhappy with Izuku particularly. If Izuku had to hazard a guess it might instead be directed at Stain.

Wow, Izuku thought a little hysterically, a new record.

"I'm not…" Shigaraki said, voice trembling slightly, " _happy_ with him, but he's useful enough, don't you think? We share the same goals, him and I. We'd like to weed out the heroes. Destroy this society from the roots."

"I can get behind that," Izuku said, smiling uneasily.

"See, that's the problem. I don't believe you."

There it was.

"You don't believe me," Izuku said flatly.

"I don't trust you," Shigaraki replied.

"Well, it's mutual," Izuku said, jutting his chin out a little in defiance. "Do you have a point, Shigaraki?"

He expected a blow, but it didn't come. Shigaraki's shirt shifted; under it Izuku spotted bandages. So he was injured, too.

Shigaraki's face looked sharp and hollow. He raised his hand, and Izuku focused on his fingers, too aware of the damage he could do.

"Sensei's taken an interest in you," Shigaraki said finally after a long moment. His lip curled in distaste, and he peered through his hair at Izuku. "I don't like that much, Midoriya."

"Well," Izuku grumbled under his breath, "that makes two of us."

Thankfully, Shigaraki seemed to have missed Izuku speaking. He began to pace the length of the rooftop in quick, controlled strides. His hand rose to his neck then lowered, but Izuku could tell he was beginning to get angry now that he was thinking.

"You haven't been very helpful," Shigaraki said. "In my head… you're a useless NPC. But Sensei thinks you're a playable character."

Izuku stayed tensed. He curled his toes. Felt the aching of his injuries and the warmth of One for All in his chest.

Izuku wondered how much longer he could use One for All before his control slipped. It'd almost happened with Stain, but with the help of Iida and Todoroki he hadn't pushed himself past his limit. Here there was no one to help him.

It looked like Shigaraki was forgetting about Izuku entirely and instead began to speak to himself. Nearby, Kurogiri kept a watchful eye on both Izuku and Shigaraki but made no move to involve himself. He probably wouldn't, not unless there was any sign of danger or if Shigaraki asked him to.

"A key…," Shigaraki mused. He flexed his fingers. Izuku shivered. "A key—"

Which side was he on?

A player _character_ , Shigaraki had called him. Like Izuku was meant to be controlled and not be the controller himself.

Shigaraki turned and paced three steps until he was in front of Izuku. He raked a hand through his hair.

"I have a proposition for you, Midoriya Izuku."

"Do you," Izuku replied unflinchingly.

"I could use you," Shigaraki said. His head tilted to the side, and his shoulders dropped, releasing tension. "Sensei says he needs you to bring down All Might, but he won't tell me anything. He wants to— wait. So I'll take matters into my own hands."

"I want All Might dead," Shigaraki spat, "and the sooner this world can be rid of him the better. And _you_ are going to help me."

The words rang in Izuku's head.

"What about Sensei?" he croaked.

"Sensei will agree with me," Shigaraki said, and Izuku could tell he was confident and sure in his belief. "He always lets me have what I want. If I ask him he'll agree."

"Shigaraki Tomura," Kurogiri said, an edge to his voice. He surged forward, a black mass, but Shigaraki threw up a hand in his direction.

 _Interesting_ , Izuku thought.

"And if _I_ disagree?" Izuku asked.

Shigaraki's mouth formed a hard, tight line.

"I don't think you would like the other option," he said softly.

Shigaraki's fingers flicked out, and that was the only warning Izuku got. Claws dug into Izuku's shoulder, and he screamed as the Nomu wrenched him upwards, spiraling up and up. Wind tore at Izuku's face, at his suit, and once they had reached high enough that Shigaraki looked like a smudge, the Nomu dropped him.

Izuku clawed at the air, searching for something he could hold onto, but there was nothing but emptiness. One for All crackled as the buildings and the ground drew closer, but then the Nomu swept down again, crying out as it snatched Izuku again.

"Shigaraki!" Izuku shouted, fear making him desperate. The distance nearly made his words disappear. He struggled against the Nomu's grip uselessly, each movement growing weaker. His left shoulder felt like it was going to pulled out of its socket. The cold wind fought against him. " _Shigaraki_!"

The Nomu screeched in Izuku's ear, and he lost his hearing to the sound. The world flipped. Izuku was dropped again, screaming, then snatched from his plummet.

The next time Izuku stopped screaming. The Nomu dove, Izuku swinging in its sharp cage. His back hit something solid, and Izuku's vision was obscured by darkness as they slid backwards, gravel flying.

The Nomu screeched again, pinning Izuku, claws trapping his throat. Izuku thrashed, trying to get free. It opened its ugly mouth, revealing a row of sharp teeth, but stopped when Shigaraki came to crouch down by Izuku.

"Either you help me," Shigaraki whispered, "or…"

Izuku lifted a hand, trying to pry the Nomu's claws away from him, but he wasn't strong enough. Its wings flapped; Izuku kicked up at its body, struggling, but it remained where it was.

"Let me go, Shigaraki," Izuku panted, "let me go, let me go."

"I don't think you understand the things I would do to see All Might dead."

"Shigaraki," Izuku begged, the pain in his shoulder so bad he cut himself off biting down on his tongue. The Nomu shifted, blocking Izuku's line of sight, but Izuku could still see Shigaraki watching patiently.

"When—"

" _Izuku!_ "

Heat blasted across Izuku's face. He felt the pressure lift off his chest but didn't understand what was happening. He stayed where he was, staring up at the flames. None of the fire touched him.

It was only after the blast of fire ended that Izuku caught someone land in front of him. The Nomu winged up and away, but Izuku could smell something burning.

He crawled onto his knees, then looked up to see the shape of his father standing.

"The Dragon has joined us," Shigaraki drawled. He drew a hand close to his chest, fingers curled.

Izuku couldn't see Hisashi's face. He didn't think he wanted to.

"What do you think you're doing, Shigaraki?"

"What am I doing?" Shigaraki laughed. "I'm simply doing the work that needs to be done. Did you like my Nomu's work?"

Hisashi roared, the sound not human but animal. Fire dripped between his jaws. Izuku crawled away and could just see the line of Hisashi's jaw and the ridge of his nose.

A fire had caught on the rooftop. Now they were all lit in warm light, Izuku could see everyone's faces. The light hit Hisashi's suit, dark and deep, a soft shine reflecting back like a dragon's scales.

"And Stain?"

The disdain in Hisashi's voice was evident.

"Do you have a problem, Dragon?"

"I do," Hisashi rumbled, stepping forwards. His hand curled. "And whatever game you were playing with him is over now. He's been captured by the heroes."

 _Stain._ His friends. Gran Torino.

Izuku fumbled in his suit and almost wept with relief when his fingers touched the surface of his phone.

Shigaraki stood, rocking back and forth on his heels. His eyes were wide with disbelief. His hand rose to his neck, and he began to scratch the skin there wildly.

"What?"

"I _said,_ " Hisashi repeated, "that Stain has been _caught._ By the _heroes._ "

Shigaraki was breathing hard now.

"No. No, no, I don't believe you."

Hisashi threw his head back and laughed without mirth. "You didn't listen to me," he said, still laughing, "when I told you not to work with him. Stain's weak."

The wind blew, and smoke swept them into a haze. Izuku coughed when it hit him, eyes stinging, and he pushed himself up. Through the smoke he could see the Nomu circling uselessly.

It dropped, but Hisashi turned. He braced himself and then released a stream of pale blue fire. Izuku clawed at the roof. The Nomu screamed, drawing away, but its wing had been badly damaged.

Shigaraki charged forward, shouting in anger, but Hisashi sent him back with a warning shot. Kurogiri twisted around, looking unsure of whether to fight Hisashi—an ally—or to retreat.

"You don't know what you're saying," Shigaraki said. He looked shaken.

" _You_ are just a child," Hisashi hissed. "You know nothing."

"I'm going to take down All Might," Shigaraki shouted back.

"Shigaraki," Kurogiri said.

" _No._ "

"And what have you done? What have you accomplished? All Might is still standing, isn't he? What have you done except for hurt my son?"

Izuku got to his feet, breathing heavily. He reached with his hand to grip his shoulder, and his balance tipped. Hisashi stayed in front of him. Hisashi was— he was keeping Izuku safe, protecting him.

"You…"

"I have a few questions I think need answering," Hisashi said, cocking his head. Izuku stumbled away, searching the sky for the Nomu, but it was gone.

"The League—"

"Enough of the League!"

Shigaraki let loose a cry and rushed forward. Hisashi snarled, teeth sharp, and smoke poured from his mouth. He turned, and the light flared in his eye when he looked at Izuku.

"Go!"

Izuku scrambled to the edge of the roof, closed his eyes, and jumped this time of his own volition. Power raced through his legs, and he landed hard on the next roof. His ankle throbbed from the impact, but Izuku didn't stop. He ran.

Izuku glanced back over his shoulder and saw fire break the dark of night. He stumbled, and pain shot through his leg, but Izuku pushed himself farther and farther away. He leapt, almost missing the next roof, then again to the ground. The shock rattled his bones, and the ground broke under his feet. One for All sputtered then slipped from his grasp.

Izuku limped from the alley and kept running, not knowing where he was going. His ankle pulsed with pain—he'd landed wrong earlier and was paying for it now. There was light in the distance; Izuku veered towards it, hoping he was heading towards other people and towards safety.

He could hear now the sound of police sirens growing louder and louder. Izuku felt his chest swell with hope. He ignored the pain and kept running.

Someone appeared at the end of the road in the light. Izuku cupped his hands over his mouth and called for help.

He could see them now—Candlelight, Izuku remembered. One of Endeavor's sidekicks.

"Phoenix!" she shouted, and Izuku remembered jarringly that that was his name. He laughed in relief as she headed towards him.

She unclipped a comms unit from her suit and spoke into it. Then she stopped, expression changing, and Izuku turned.

"No," he whispered.

But there it was—the Nomu, features disfigured and one wing torn and burnt. Its eyes locked on Izuku, and he scrambled forward. Candlelight broke out of her shock, hands lighting with fire as she dashed towards him.

Izuku felt his ankle give and cried out as he dropped. Candlelight shouted his name, and Izuku turned, scrambling backwards desperately as the Nomu swooped down, mouth wide open.

"Not on my watch, kid!"

Gran Torino slammed feet-first into the Nomu, and they went tumbling over each other. A police car pulled up, officers getting out suited in vests and armed with guns. Candlelight's fingers extinguished, and she rushed to his side.

"Can you walk?" She looked him over, frowning. "You're injured."

"My ankle," Izuku said. He tested it and almost fell over again. "That's not good."

"Come on," Candlelight said as she helped him walk. He cast a look over his shoulder at where Gran Torino was wrestling the Nomu. Police rushed past them, and then Izuku saw Endeavor appear on the street, having run once he was contacted. His gaze swept over Izuku and his sidekick before he chased after the Nomu.

"Don't worry," Candlelight said, "the others will take care of it. Endeavor will fight it."

Izuku would've protested, but he knew he was in no shape to fight, not after Stain and the Nomu. He'd only get in the heroes' way.

There was a human cry of victory from behind them. Izuku limped away faster, and he saw an ambulance arrive in the distance.

"My friends," he started. "Gran Torino—"

"They're alright," Candlelight reassured as he was handed over to the paramedics. "Don't worry."

The hospital was familiar, even if Izuku didn't like it. He felt like he was in Recovery Girl's office. They treated his shoulder and wrapped his ankle, though Izuku was out for most of it. When he woke up again he saw he wasn't alone. There were two other beds in the same room, and Izuku saw seated in them his friends.

Izuku sat up.

"Guys," he said, then broke into a coughing fit.

"Akatani!"

"Akatani…"

He waved them off. "I'm good. I'm good."

Izuku looked up at them and grinned widely.

"We made it, guys."

Iida, on the far bed, adjusted his glasses. "Akatani, I… when you— that Nomu…"

Izuku wasn't ready to talk about it. "It's okay," he said, "the heroes saved me."

Todoroki frowned. "I'm glad, but…"

Izuku squinted at him. "It wasn't your fault, Todoroki. Or yours, Iida. It just happened."

Todoroki was still frowning. He didn't look completely convinced, but he glanced back at Iida and seemed to let it go.

"Are you guys okay?" Izuku asked. He pushed himself up farther but decided he wasn't going to do anything past that. His friends looked better than he remembered, now that they were out of the alley and in a clean hospital room, bandaged and taken care of. Izuku wondered how he looked.

"We're fine," Todoroki acknowledged. He looked the least injured of all of them; Iida had heavy bandaging over his shoulder, too, and his legs. His hand looked the worst, though.

"Stain was taken care of," Iida said stiffly, "and from what I heard, the Nomu, too, after they caught you."

"Gran Torino…?"

Todoroki cocked his head. "The pro hero that was with you…?" Izuku nodded in response, and Todoroki continued. "He's fine. He and Manual are going to stop by later to visit, I think."

"Not Endeavor," Izuku said, meeting Todoroki's eyes.

"He's assisting with cleanup," Todoroki responded, "so, no."

Todoroki cleared his throat then looked between Izuku and Iida. "I think we need to talk."

The door opened. Whatever Todoroki was going to say was dropped, and his face slipped back into a neutral mask as a dog-headed police officer stepped in, followed by Gran Torino. Gran Torino nodded once when he saw Izuku, but stood back respectfully.

"Don't bother," the officer barked when it looked like Todoroki was going to stand. Izuku slid his feet back under the blankets from where he was about to move.

"My name is Chief Kenji," the man said, "I'm Chief of Police here."

"Sir—" Iida started. Chief Kenji held up a hand.

"I'm here to speak with you about what happened with Stain," Chief Kenji began, "He's severely injured but being treated. I'd also like to remind you about Quirks in our society."

"Oh," Izuku said quietly. This was the part where he was supposed to regret running off by himself. He didn't.

"Heroes began to use their Quirks to do good when the police could not," Chief Kenji said, "and we are grateful to them for that. But all heroes, for using their Quirks, are subject to strict law and moral codes—and you are no different. You're still, ruff, young, just first years. You're not yet ready to take on that role, and that is why you are assigned the supervision of your teachers and your mentors."

Chief Kenji turned his stare onto the heroes behind him: Gran Torino, who crossed his arms over his chest disapprovingly, and Manual, who simply bowed his head.

"But—"

"No matter who you fought, even if it _was_ the Hero Killer, you broke the laws that were put in place to protect civilians from being hurt by accident or other serious incidents." Izuku winced. "For your failure to comply with the law, both you and your supervisors will be subject to punishment."

"Are you serious?" Todoroki thundered. Izuku turned, surprised to hear him, but Todoroki was glaring at Chief Kenji.

"Todoroki, we should—" Iida interrupted.

"What did you expect us to do?" Todoroki asked. He didn't raise his voice, but it cut through all the same. "Stand idly by? We're not pro heroes, but you can't expect us to do nothing! If Akatani and I hadn't acted, Native and Iida would be dead."

"Todoroki!"

"Enough," Gran Torino said, the first time Izuku had heard him speak.

"If you had let me finish, that was simply the opinion of a police officer. However, this is not an official disclosure—you three will be going unpunished."

Izuku slumped, sighing. He didn't need any more trouble than he already had. Iida enthusiastically thanked Chief Kenji. Todoroki simply folded his hands together.

Chief Kenji nodded towards the two pro heroes. "They will have their teaching license revoked. Though you go unpunished, you will not be rewarded, either. There aren't enough eyewitnesses—instead Endeavor will be credited for taking down the hero-killer."

Izuku peeked at Todoroki's face but found it blank. Iida bowed the best he could in a hospital bed, and Izuku followed suit, murmuring his thanks.

"Thank you for your bravery and your work," Chief Kenji said, "without you Stain would still be free. Please do not disclose your involvement with anyone, but… I believe you three are promising young heroes."

He took his leave, the three of them thanking him. Manual crossed the room to speak with Iida, but Gran Torino came to Izuku's bed.

"Boy," he said, tone sharp.

Izuku rubbed at his hair. "Sorry."

Gran Torino's face softened a fraction. Izuku grinned toothily at him.

"What was it you said? Not on my watch?"

"Kid," Gran Torino groaned, "you're an absolute piece of work, aren't you?"

"He's a magnet for trouble," Todoroki put in. Gran Torino sniffed, then cuffed the back of Izuku's head.

"Don't do that again."

"No plans," Izuku promised, and his smile faded when he remembered the feeling of the Nomu clutching him, the feeling of falling, and falling—

"I called Toshinori," Gran Torino said. "Earlier, to let him know what happened, and then again once you'd been taken care of. He'll be here soon."

Izuku opened his mouth, then shut it again.

"Akatani," Gran Torino started, "did…"

The Nomu. His father.

"Not now," Izuku cut in, "and not here. Please."

He squeezed his eyes shut. Shigaraki. Fire. Gran Torino put a hand on his uninjured shoulder, and the images in Izuku's mind vanished at the touch. He stayed there as his friends spoke in low quiet tones, and then Izuku opened his eyes when Gran Torino moved. He made a noise when the hand left his shoulder then looked past and saw Toshinori in the doorway, looking to all the world like he'd run here. When Izuku saw Toshinori there, time seemed to stand still.

Toshinori mouthed his name, then came in stumbling like he wasn't sure he was welcome. Izuku reached for him, and Toshinori crossed the rest of the way.

"This isn't what I meant," Toshinori said softly, kneeling by the bed, and Izuku's laugh was watery but genuine.

"Toshi…"

"I'm sorry," Toshinori whispered. He gripped Izuku's knee. "Mikumi, I'm _sorry_ —"

"No," Izuku said, sniffling. "No, no…"

"When Gran Torino called," Toshinori started, but he broke off, then said, "I thought for a second I had lost you."

Izuku's mouth was trembling. He reached out to grip Toshinori's shirt tight in a fist, and Toshinori wrapped his arms around Izuku.

"I saw—" Izuku whispered, shaking.

"It's okay," Toshinori said, "I'm here, it's okay."

"They're going to kill you," Izuku whispered, burying his face in Toshinori's chest. Toshinori moved back, swiping his thumbs under Izuku's eyes.

"They won't," Toshinori said, and Izuku cried harder. "They won't, I promise."


	30. Chapter 30

**Flare Signal** _  
chapter thirty_

* * *

Hosu exploded with attention overnight.

With nothing left to do, Izuku scrolled through the news while stuck in the hospital. He stayed on his side, back turned towards his friends, and read the articles, occasionally clicking through pictures or a video.

He checked the discussion forums and found thread after thread about Stain and his ideology. How some people grudgingly admitted they thought he had the right ideas but the wrong methods. What Izuku saw was an undercurrent, a rising wave that would bring more villains in the fold.

Like Chief Kenji had told him, the credit to defeating Stain had been given to Endeavor. There was no mention of Izuku or his friends at all—good. The less attention, the better. It had been phrased as a punishment, but Izuku knew it was more of a gift than anything.

There was a fair amount of attention given to the Nomus, too, but not as much as Stain. Izuku felt sick when he saw the winged Nomu flapping against a dark sky; his stomach crawled into his throat and stayed there. Izuku clicked away before he could see it again and remember the way he had fallen.

"We need to talk."

Todoroki's voice cut through the din. Izuku clicked off his phone, shoving it under his pillow to hide until he processed the words and sat up to look over.

"Talk?"

Todoroki met his eyes evenly. "About yesterday," he said, "and about— the past weeks, I think."

Izuku swallowed. There was a sudden weight sitting on his chest, and he reached up to massage his shirt.

"What is there to discuss?" Iida chipped in. Todoroki broke his gaze to look at Iida.

"Both of you… all of us have been… struggling recently, I think," Todoroki said. "Haven't we?"

Izuku blinked, surprised. He hadn't expected Todoroki to be the one to bring it up. Before the Sports Festival, before Izuku had spoken to him, he'd been cold and aloof.

Now Izuku could see. There, the way his eyes were flickering between them and the door, the way he kept very, very still, the movement of his hands giving him away.

Izuku cleared his throat and looked away. "Yeah."

"Yes," Iida responded, "I… acted in ways that were unbefitting—"

"I think we're past that part, Iida," Todoroki cut in, "though I myself didn't get a chance to apologize."

"For what?" Izuku asked glumly. "You saved our lives."

"But not your hands," Todoroki said, voice flat. "It seems I'm always involved in hand-related incidents."

Iida's head jerked in Izuku's direction as Izuku did his. They looked at each other past Todoroki.

"Was that a joke, Todoroki?"

Todoroki cocked his head. "I don't know what you mean."

"Thanks for lending a hand, Todoroki," Izuku said, and Iida grinned. Todoroki looked between them in confusion, and that was what made Izuku laugh a little.

"It's alright, Todoroki," Iida said finally, "we're grateful for your help. And regardless, I'm sure Akatani would've found a way to break his arm—"

" _Hey,"_ Izuku snapped, but there was no real bite to it.

"You should take more care," Todoroki told him seriously, and Izuku suppressed his smile and nodded solemnly.

"What was it that you were saying, Todoroki?" Iida asked.

"Akatani taught me something," Todoroki said, and Izuku jerked. "The Sports Festival. You made me realize that there are other people around me willing to help if I needed."

"Oh…"

"Yet," Todoroki continued, and there was an anger to his words that hadn't been there before, "when either of you were struggling you didn't think to ask for help. Maybe— I am not without fault. I don't think I made it clear enough that I would listen if you needed someone to speak to, but you should have gone to someone."

Izuku fixed his gaze on the doorway. Discomfort slid down his throat.

 _It's not the same,_ he wanted to say. _I_ can't.

"I understand," Iida said quietly from the other side, "and I apologize. I was too caught up in my own head to consider others' concern for me."

"Akatani?" Todoroki prompted when Izuku didn't say anything.

"Thank you, Todoroki. I appreciate it."

Under his pillow, Izuku's phone buzzed. He ignored it, sinking back deeply into thought.

Izuku wondered where Hisashi was. Now that it was a new day, the sunlight and the heroes were chasing away the villains and the nightmares. The last he had seen of his father was the bright flames of his own fire and Shigaraki pushing through it.

As if Izuku's thought had summoned him, someone familiar appeared in the doorway Izuku was looking at. His friends' conversation died as Hisashi walked in, looking over the three of them before his gaze stopped on Izuku.

"Father," Izuku said heavily.

Hisashi looked like he always had, but his cropped hair was disheveled and his nice business shirt wrinkled. The sleeves were pulled down all the way instead of rolled up—he must have been injured, then.

"Mikumi," Hisashi responded, voice matching Izuku's tone.

Izuku didn't know how to feel. He didn't want to cry for any reason, but there was a thick sense of relief followed by a stray thought of how Izuku would have felt if Hisashi was gone. He recoiled. Izuku held no love for his father and the things he had done, but…

"I didn't think you would be here," Izuku said. Hisashi finally came to stand next to him, looking Izuku over more closely.

"It's not easy to get rid of me," Hisashi said lightly, careful of the others listening as the two of them carried a conversation that had meaning only to them. "You're hurt again."

Again, at Shigaraki and Stain's hands, like at USJ.

"I'm alright," Izuku said. He rolled his shoulder back and felt a dulled wave of pain wash through it. "It should heal soon enough."

Hisashi frowned.

"We'll speak more when you come home," he said. "I've changed my mind about one of our business partners."

"H- home?"

"After your internship," Hisashi said, "though I'll be cutting my business trip short. Hosu is… _crawling_ with heroes."

"And reporters," Izuku agreed, sighing.

"I came to make sure you were alright," Hisashi said, glancing back at the door, "I'm sorry I can't stay. I have to go soon, to catch the train unless they shut it down again."

Izuku realized that Gran Torino must be here, too, and maybe even Toshinori even if Hisashi had no idea who he was. He'd seen Toshinori the first time with Detective Tsukauchi. Hisashi was under pressure; with Japan's eyes turned on Hosu, it was best if Hisashi could slip away quietly.

"Okay," Izuku said.

"Stay out of danger."

"It finds me," Izuku protested half-heartedly. "Anyway, I'm done fighting villains."

"Good," Hisashi said. He pressed a hand on Izuku's head, aware of the others in the room. "I'm sorry."

Izuku hummed. He wasn't sure how sorry Hisashi was, though this apology had seemed genuine. Nor did Izuku know exactly what it was for.

"I'll see you next week," Izuku said as a response. Hisashi nodded.

"I'll check in with you," Hisashi said. He looked at his phone then nodded again. "Mikumi."

"Father," Izuku said, and just like that he was gone.

"Your father?" Todoroki asked.

Izuku nodded. Todoroki was watching him a little curiously; Izuku would have to be careful.

"He happened to be in Hosu for a business trip," Izuku explained, keeping his voice steady and even. "I guess they let him know I got caught up with the Nomu or something. I don't think they'd tell anyone about Stain."

Todoroki seemed to find that a reasonable answer.

"He did seem quite concerned," Iida chipped in, "though in a hurry."

Izuku shrugged. "He said they were shutting down the trains. It might be harder to get out of Hosu."

Todoroki frowned. "But there should be plenty of people coming in and out. I'm sure some will choose to leave until things die down here, and there will be heroes from nearby places coming in."

Izuku shrugged again. "I don't run transportation, don't ask me."

"Do you think they'll let us back to our internships?" Iida asked. "I… would at least like to apologize to Manual."

Izuku snorted. "If they'll even let us step a foot out of the hospital."

"Endeavor is busy," Todoroki admitted, "and I'm not sure I'm fit to be helping. The same goes for you… and besides, those two pro heroes had their licenses revoked, didn't they?"

That was alright for Gran Torino, Izuku figured. He wasn't exactly the kind of guy who wanted to take on interns all the time, and he was retired. He'd taken Izuku because of One for All, but that was a different situation entirely.

They were eventually allowed back to the internships, but it wasn't much use. Izuku could fight, but it wouldn't be pretty.

Izuku practiced making illusions for Gran Torino, free to use his Quirk. He stretched the light into shapes and figures. People Izuku still struggled with, but with nothing else to do, Izuku could only get better.

Gran Torino also encouraged—if _encourage_ was the right word—Izuku to try to summon the wielders again. So Izuku spent his remaining days meditating, legs crossed on the wooden floor of Gran Torino's home while Gran Torino dozed.

"This isn't working," Izuku complained. He flopped back carefully as to not hurt himself. "Maybe they don't want to speak to me again."

Gran Torino was awake this time. "For good reason."

"Hey."

Gran Torino huffed. "Saw then at the Sports Festival, did you?"

"Yeah," Izuku said, "when…"

"What?"

"Maybe it was triggered," Izuku said, "by Shinsou's Quirk. After he brainwashed me, I saw them, and I broke out of his control. So maybe it's situational."

"His Quirk's all up here," Gran Torino pointed out, gesturing to Izuku's head. "Makes sense you might see them, since no one else did. Not a physical manifestation."

"I guess," Izuku said, though he was a little disappointed. "Do you think that maybe I could see them once I gain a little more control? You said I probably have control over… what, five percent? That's not exactly a lot."

"No," Gran Torino agreed, "not compared to where you will be."

"Will be," Izuku repeated.

It was a scary thought. Already, even with the little bit of power Izuku could control, he could fight in a way he had never dreamed of. It wasn't enough to beat All for One, but Stain had proved Izuku could handle a fight.

All Might could _change the weather._ And the power only grew, so neither Izuku nor his mentors had any real idea of what Izuku was actually capable of.

"Can you tell me about All for One?"

Gran Torino's eyes widened a fraction, but he was careful with his expression. "What do you want to know? Don't ask me."

Izuku thought about it. "Does he have any weaknesses?"

Gran Torino laughed. "Weaknesses?"

"I mean," Izuku said, more hesitant now, "I don't know, like… everyone has a weakness, right?"

Gran Torino raised an eyebrow. "If you're normal, sure," he conceded, "but that man has been around since… since the beginning of Quirks, we think. That kind of power, that kind of life… any weaknesses are ones you have to make."

"Right."

Gran Torino stretched. "Stop dwelling on it, kid. It's not your problem to worry about. Let us handle it, and you focus on One for All and being a hero."

"...Alright," Izuku said. "Gran Torino?"

Gran Torino grumbled. "Don't you have anything better to do besides ask me questions?"

"No," Izuku said, gesturing at himself.

"What do you want."

"Well," Izuku started, thinking, "have you ever… made a mistake?"

"A mistake?"

"Well, I mean, of course everybody makes mistakes, but, like, you know. A really, really bad mistake."

"I don't know if your 'really, really bad' is my 'really, really bad,'" Gran Torino grunted. He thought about it for a minute.

"Like… putting other people in danger kind of 'really, really bad,'" Izuku said.

"So, bad," Gran Torino said.

"Bad."

Gran Torino scratched his head then looked at Izuku quizzically.

"What do you want to know that for?"

"I don't know," Izuku said, because he couldn't exactly say _hey, I kind of took a part-time job as Shigaraki's punching bag and All for One's chess piece._

Gran Torino grunted. "Sure."

"Really?"

"We're heroes," Gran Torino said, "a lot of times you mess up or you make the wrong choice, and it's not just like a broken microwave that you can replace online."

"A broken microwave…?"

"That's besides the point. I almost got Nana killed."

Izuku's breath caught in his chest. Gran Torino sighed.

"I said the wrong thing to the wrong person," he explained, but didn't go any further in detail, "and the next time I saw Nana she was bleeding out in a back alley."

"Oh," Izuku said, "I'm sorry."

Gran Torino sighed again. "She lived. But I learned to be more careful after that."

There was a question on Izuku's lips that he couldn't seem to form words to.

"How do you … fix it?"

"Sometimes the problem's over before you can do anything about it," Gran Torino said, "and the only thing you can do is deal with the fallout best you can. Sometimes you can't fix it. Sometimes you can, but you give up something. It's not…"

"A broken microwave?"

Gran Torino snapped his fingers. "Not a broken microwave."

"Then what?"

"Keep going. Keep fighting. You can't fix every problem but you can keep doing good. Or you can take a job teaching a bunch of annoying brats until they drive you insane by blowing up a portion of the school in an unapproved _training exercise,_ including the cafeteria!"

"That's…" Izuku said slowly, "very specific, Gran Torino."

He was trying not to smile. Gran Torino eyed him.

"I'm not speaking from experience."

"Of course not," Izuku said, committing Gran Torino's story to memory so he could search it up later.

Gran Torino shook his finger at Izuku. "Don't blow up my kitchen."

"I can cook," Izuku said, "I'm not Toshinori. I won't."

Gran Torino huffed. "That answer your question?"

Izuku took a deep breath. "I'll start looking for a job to teach annoying brats who blow up the cafeteria, yeah. I'm sure there'll be an opening online."

"Brat," Gran Torino said. Izuku smiled.

"You sound like Kacchan," Izuku murmured.

"Hah?"

"Nothing," Izuku said, "you just remind me of someone I know."

"You have friends?"

"Come on!"

Izuku's phone buzzed. He checked it and saw a text from Hisashi; for a moment Izuku thought of leaving him on read, then decided it wasn't a good idea. Gran Torino peered over curiously, but Izuku blocked his phone from sight.

"My father," Izuku said. "Just checking in."

Gran Torino raised an eyebrow. "If he's anything like you he's an… interesting man."

Izuku shrugged uncomfortably. "Interesting is one way to describe him, I guess."

"You don't like him much, eh?"

"I didn't say that," Izuku protested, "he's my father."

Gran Torino hummed, unconvinced. "Just ask Toshi to take you," he suggested, grinning wickedly. "I'm sure he'd do it in a heartbeat."

Izuku could feel himself turning red. He ducked his head.

"It's not, we're not… I don't- Gran Torino, please…"

"I'll let him know," Gran Torino promised.

"No!" Izuku yelped. "Please don't. Oh, God."

"He likes you."

Izuku stared at the floor. "S-so?"

Gran Torino grunted. He opened his mouth like he was going to say something and then shut his mouth again.

"What?" Izuku pressed.

"Don't worry about it," Gran Torino said. "Oi, internship's almost over."

"Wish I could stay longer," Izuku said. Outside of the mess in Hosu, he'd enjoyed the little taste he'd gotten of a different life.

"I don't," Gran Torino said. He grinned. "I'll enjoy getting rid of you."

"You like me," Izuku teased.

"Hmph."

Izuku wasn't sure how much progress had been made by the end of the week. He packed his bags, looking around at the old but comfortable apartment.

"I'll come back and bother you," Izuku promised as Gran Torino walked him to the door.

"Please don't."

"I didn't get a chance to say this," Izuku said, "so… thank you, Gran Torino. I think I learned a little more about… everything."

"Keep your control and your composure, and you'll be fine. Don't push your limit."

"Five percent," Izuku said, sighing, "got it."

The taxi was waiting on the front curb. Izuku's bags were put in the back; Gran Torino followed him out.

"You'll see me again," Izuku told him, "just watch me."

"I'm sure," Gran Torino said. He squinted up at the sun, frowned, then looked at Izuku like he'd never seen him before. "What's your name again, boy?"

Izuku narrowed his eyes. He opened his mouth to quip back that this was _not_ how he wanted to say goodbye and opened the taxi door. Then he saw the expectant look in Gran Torino's eyes.

"Phoenix," Izuku said, and this time he liked it. Gran Torino huffed, but he nodded just once.

Izuku climbed into the taxi, door shutting behind him, and waved. Gran Torino watched for a while, standing on the curb, but when he was nearly out of sight, Izuku saw him finally wave back.


	31. Chapter 31

**Flare Signal**  
 _chapter thirty-one_

* * *

"You're kidding me," Kacchan groaned, " _again?_ "

"How was your internship, Bakugou?" Izuku asked politely, clasping his hands behind his back and smiling winningly. "I like the hair."

"I'm going to throttle you," Kacchan threatened, but to Izuku the threat meant very little. Kacchan's hair was the highlight of the week. Best Jeanist had certainly done a number on it, and Izuku had saved every picture the girls had been willing to send him. It was going to make a good laugh later when he needed it.

"You've been paired together again," Todoroki commented. He seemed amused.

"With this nerd?" Kacchan scoffed, looking away. "Ugh."

"I'm excited to work with you," Izuku chirped, which was very much the truth. "I think we'll make a great team."

"Yeah, but what _is_ our final exam going to be anyway?"

"I heard it was robots," Kaminari piped up. He leaned in conspiratorially. "Heard it from one of the upperclassmen."

Izuku frowned. "I don't think so."

He and Uraraka exchanged a look over their lunch. "It doesn't make sense," Uraraka agreed. She tapped her chin. "And besides, I'm more worried about math."

Kaminari was already face-down on the table. "Don't talk to me about math," he moaned.

Izuku made a face. Mathematics wasn't his strongest suit either. He could count villains and subtract hours from his sleep schedule to allot to other things—that was all he needed.

"At least English shouldn't be hard," Todoroki said.

The entire table turned to glare at him. Todoroki paused with his chopsticks halfway to his mouth.

"What?"

Hisashi taught Izuku English; he believed it was useful to know. Even so, it wasn't something Izuku had picked up easily, though it _had_ been rather quick.

"Of course _you_ would say that."

"What?" Todoroki asked. He set down his chopsticks.

Someone farther down on the lunch table yelled so Izuku could hear her. "Stop being perfect, Todoroki!"

Todoroki frowned. "I'm not sure what…"

"Don't worry about it," Uraraka said, reaching across to pat his arm sympathetically.

Kirishima dramatically wiped a fake tear from his eye. "He doesn't even know it…"

"Oh, shut it, all of you," Kacchan said. He looked a little sullen, his chin jutting out.

 _Oh,_ Izuku thought, a laugh bubbling in his throat, _he's jealous._

"And don't talk while you're chewing," Iida called, using his good arm to chop the air.

"Yes, Dad," a chorus of voices said together, then laughed. Izuku leaned back on his hands a little and smiled.

It was nice being back and surrounded by people Izuku liked. He'd forgotten what it felt like; he hadn't really talked to any of them in weeks.

And now Todoroki was joining their growing table. Izuku marveled at how easily he had joined and how easily he had been accepted. There had been a few quizzical looks at the beginning of the week when he'd hesitantly come carrying his lunch, and then there'd been a lot of shoving and shuffling to make room.

"Hey," Ashido shouted from the far side of the lunch table. "I'm going to the Support Department to make a few adjustments to my costume later. Anyone wanna come?"

Izuku raised his hand, and Ashido sent him an air high-five.

"So how was your internship?" Izuku asked, turning to Uraraka. She beamed.

"Gunhead was fantastic," she gushed, eyes sparkling. She had a sudden thought. "Maybe I should get a gun."

Izuku raised a brow. "That escalated quickly, don't you think?"

"I think it'd be useful in the future," Uraraka said, humming, "well, anyway, I learned a lot about hand-to-hand, so I'm really excited to kick your butt."

"Kick my butt? You're going to have to work hard to do that," Izuku replied, but he smiled. He was sure she could wipe the floor (or the ceiling, he supposed) with his face.

"You were with Gran Torino, right?"

Izuku cleared his throat. "Oh, yeah, he was the worst. I miss him."

Iida gave him a weird look.

"I've never heard of him before," Uraraka said.

"Oh, yeah," Izuku said, "well, once he fought an octopus with a steak knife and then— anyway, he's not a well-known hero. But he taught at U.A. And he was All Might's mentor."

Todoroki was staring at Izuku. "All Might's mentor."

"Todoroki," Izuku warned, silently telling him not to start.

"You're just denying it," Todoroki said, more passionately that Izuku had ever heard him. Izuku grabbed Kacchan's shoulder, ignoring his indignant shout, and shook him.

"Help me," Izuku begged. "All you have to do is say 'Todoroki is wrong and Akatani is right.'"

"Half n' Half's wrong," Kacchan crowed delightedly, though left out the second part.

"About what?"

"Don't you dare," Izuku hissed.

Todoroki blinked coolly. "I believe Akatani is All Might's illegitimate son."

Kacchan spat out his drink. There was silence, and then half the table burst into laughter while the other half looked at Izuku as if they were deciphering how much he looked like All Might. As much as Izuku wanted as a kid, he didn't look much like his hero.

"You're _so right,"_ Kaminari said, breaking the silence.

"No, he's _not._ "

"How could I have never seen this before?"

Izuku whined, covering his face with his hands. He splayed his fingers so he could peek through them and found that he was still in his seat instead of melting through the floor like he wanted.

"What's Dad Might like?"

"Dad _what?"_

"All Might, but like, he's your dad."

"Guys, stop," Izuku protested, "he's not my dad."

Kacchan kept eating. "All Might's not his dad."

"How do you know?"

"Tch," Kacchan said, "he's too good to be Akatani's dad."

"Thanks?" Izuku replied. "That's… fair."

"Todoroki," Izuku suddenly remembered, " _you met my dad."_

Iida sat up straighter. "That's right," he said, "at the hospital. Yes, that was him."

"Ha," Izuku proclaimed, "explain that!"

"I think All Might has some sort of disguise," Todoroki said, "not just in regards to having a family, but outside of being a hero. After all, it's pretty hard to miss All Might, and it's not like he's been spotted grocery shopping or something."

"Oh my God," Uraraka said, snapping her fingers, "All Might gets his groceries delivered."

Izuku sent her a weird look.

"A lot of people do…?" he said. "And besides, All Might can't cook."

"You're his son! Game over!"

"Yeah, how do you know _that_ , Akatani?"

"You're focusing on the wrong thing," Izuku sent back. "Like I said, All Might can't _cook._ "

"Neither can I," Todoroki confessed.

"Exactly, and you're both perfect."

"Maybe perfect people can't cook," Uraraka said.

"Oh, so you can't, Uraraka?"

She wailed, turning red, and Izuku smiled. The banter continued through the end of lunch, and Izuku found himself smiling more than he had in a while.

Izuku and his classmates shuffled back to class afterwards. All Might was ambling his way down the hall. Kirishima nudged him.

"What?" Izuku hissed back.

But a moment later he couldn't help himself and jogged to catch up to All Might, ignoring the teasing behind him.

"Hey, young Akatani," All Might said, smiling broadly. "How was lunch?"

"Good," Izuku said, then remembered his classmates were watching and ducked his head to hide his blush.

All Might glanced back at his classmates, who all whistled and looked around innocently. He chuckled.

"I'm sure."

Izuku fiddled with his shirt. After the internship and half a week of settling back into class, he and All Might had slowly drifted back together. There were long stints of painful silence and apologies, but they were working on it.

"I'm sorry I couldn't stay longer in Hosu," All Might said, carefully putting a hand on Izuku's shoulder. "I thought if I was there I might as well help ease the damage."

Izuku shook his head. "You did what you should. And you came. That was enough."

All Might hummed. His hand was warm and comforting.

"Ready for exams?"

Izuku shook his head. "I haven't… been keeping up with my studies as well as I should have."

All Might stopped. "I think you'll do just fine."

"Sure," Izuku said without any conviction. He'd have to ask Iida if he wanted to do some study sessions together—or maybe Kacchan, if he was willing. Kacchan's grades had never been anything to laugh at.

"Don't worry," All Might said, and they resumed walking. Then he smiled secretly. "Well, maybe worry a little."

"Very reassuring," Izuku drawled.

"You've improved greatly," All Might said, "I'm proud of you."

"Well—" Izuku said, but he couldn't continue.

"You performed well in class the other day."

They'd raced through the buildings. Izuku had been able to keep up Full Cowl, steady and strong like Gran Torino wanted.

"Yeah," Izuku said, "but I came in last."

Then he'd slipped and come in dead last. It'd been embarrassing to say the least.

"Not everything is about coming in first place," All Might said sagely.

"Says the number _one_ hero," Izuku grumbled, and All Might laughed loudly.

"I'm not sure young Bakugou would stand for anything less, regardless."

"And I'm stuck with him," Izuku said, but he smiled. "Anyway, everyone wants to pass. Eraserhead told us about the training camp."

He wasn't sure he could go, but it sounded nice. All Might smiled broadly.

Izuku hadn't brought up final exams or the training camp to Hisashi yet, and he had no plans to. For the rest of the week, he studied as hard as he could. Kacchan yelled every time Izuku made a mistake when they were studying, but he got shushed by the librarian and nearly kicked out. Izuku had no problem deciphering Kacchan's teaching in between the cursing, so it helped.

They even trained together a few times when they got the chance. Kacchan and Izuku quizzed each other about verb tenses in English while doing sit-ups instead of counting off, and insulted each other while trying to reference as many impressionists as they could when they fought. Other times, they learned to work together—Eraserhead had paired them for the final exams, which meant they were either fighting each other or against someone else. It was probably the latter, Izuku figured, since fighting each other meant one person was bound to fail per pair.

It was weird, being around Kacchan again. Izuku had missed years of Kacchan's life and was now running chasing after his back trying to catch up. Kacchan seemed to grow more sullen and stressed as the days passed, snapping at everyone around him. Izuku let the anger wash over him. He could take it. He tried not to push too much, but Kacchan seemed to swing between a good mood and a bad one.

"Probably just exams," Uraraka said when Izuku brought it up. "He's worried in his own way, I guess."

"Yeah," Izuku said, and dropped it.

Finals week came. Izuku dreaded it but welcomed the distraction from villainy to heroics.

What Izuku _wasn't_ ready for was the heroics exam.

"You're going to be fighting us," Eraserhead announced when the time came.

"I'm dropping," Mineta moaned.

"Please drop," one of the girls whispered loudly.

Eraserhead cleared his throat. He explained each of the teams and what hero they would be fighting.

Izuku had been paired with Kacchan; they'd known that already. But then All Might smiled cheerily, and Eraserhead gestured to him.

"We're done," Izuku said, leaning forward so he could speak to Kacchan.

"I'm gonna punch his teeth in," Kacchan whispered back.

"I thought it was robots," Jirou called.

"It _was,_ " Principal Nedzu chirped. He seemed far too cheerful; Izuku remembered he was impossibly smart and pitied his opponents.

"The rise in villain attacks and what happened this year has lead us to change the exam to reflect real life battles," Eraserhead explained. He looked excited. Izuku didn't like that.

The class was sent off to a training area. Not within U.A., like Izuku had expected, but a large facility outside of it. It reminded Izuku of USJ; he checked around nervously but tried not to worry too much about it.

"Ready, boys?" All Might asked as Kacchan and Izuku went to follow him into their own area.

"Not really," Izuku muttered.

"Hell yeah," Kacchan said at the same time. They looked at each other. All Might laughed.

"You're going to have to work together," he said.

According to Eraserhead's announcements, he and Kacchan had thirty minutes to defeat All Might. He wouldn't be using his full power, and he'd be wearing a weighted set of bracelets Hatsume had made. They could handcuff All Might, which Izuku privately thought wasn't happening, or they could escape the battlefield.

Looking at All Might's face, Izuku wasn't sure he'd let either of the win conditions happen. Then he looked at Kacchan's face and thought he would.

"Immovable object," Izuku muttered, looking between them, "meet unstoppable force."

All Might disappeared into the battlefield. Izuku swallowed nervously.

"We need a plan," he said.

"I'm going to beat him."

"Great plan, needs some help."

"I don't need help," Kacchan said, and Izuku felt like screaming. It was like being back at square one.

The bell rang to signal the start of exams.

"Bakugou," Izuku said, "please…"

Kacchan took off. Izuku swore and took off after him, the anger mounting. He didn't know what had gotten into Kacchan. They'd been working together fine for the past week or two, yet now Kacchan seemed to have done a complete one-eighty and now wanted to be the lone wolf again. All Might would flatten him into an angry pancake.

"Bakugou!"

"Out of my way!"

Izuku drew back. He kept to hiding between the buildings but followed Kacchan.

"Hello, heroes!" All Might called. His voice bounced off of every building and echoed around every corner. "Prepare to fight me!"

A booming laugh shook the air. Then the ground rumbled, and Izuku yelped, barely keeping his balance.

"Laying it on a bit thick," Izuku murmured as All Might continued to taunt them. At least he seemed to be having fun, if no one else was.

All Might appeared through a haze of dust.

"Die!" Kacchan screamed, launching himself forward.

Even restrained, All Might was infinitely more powerful. He brought up a fist and caught Kacchan in the gut, sending him flying backwards. It looked like a relatively soft blow, considering Kacchan recovered quickly.

"Dammit, Kacchan," Izuku growled. Now he had no choice.

He zipped up the nearest building and then dropped down on All Might in a silent move reminiscent of when he'd fought Stain. All Might turned, impossibly fast, but Izuku was fast, too. Just like he'd trained.

He slid under All Might's hands. Kacchan released an explosion right in All Might's face, and Izuku charged up One for All and sent a powerful blast clipping against All Might's side.

All Might stumbled once, but only once. He was quick to recover, wrapping a large hand around Izuku's wrist and then flinging him away. Izuku hit the ground tumbling. He saw Kacchan go soaring in the other direction.

"You're going to have to try harder than that, heroes," All Might said. His voice had deepened, becoming more menacing, and the smile on his face was _nothing_ like the one Izuku was used to.

Izuku raced forward. All Might shifted to meet him, but Izuku suddenly dropped, sliding between his legs. One for All burst outwards as Izuku switched into a run away from All Might.

"Where are you going, little hero?"

Wind pressed at Izuku's back. A chill went up his spine.

He sounded like— he sounded like—

Izuku ducked behind a building for cover.

"Focus," he whispered. He thought about the exercises Gran Torino had drilled into him, the way they'd fought.

He couldn't defeat All Might. Not alone.

And whatever was happening, Kacchan wasn't helping him. The best course of action, Izuku knew, was to get out of the battlefield alone.

Even if he didn't like it.

Thinking about Kacchan made Izuku realize he hadn't seen his friend in a worrying amount of time. Knowing him, he wouldn't waste a second throwing himself back into the fray.

"Bakugou?" Izuku called, trying to stay as quiet as he could. All Might would come after him.

He hopped from building to building, carefully keeping track of where All Might was. Izuku followed the direction he thought he'd seen Kacchan go in.

"Come out," All Might called.

 _This isn't real,_ Izuku told himself, but it was difficult to believe. He _knew_ it wasn't real. He knew it wasn't. Yet only hearing All Might's voice chase Izuku into the corners of the street, knowing Kacchan was somewhere, maybe hurt enough that he wasn't out fighting—

"Not real, not real," Izuku chanted. He rubbed at his eyes. He couldn't think about it.

 _Focus._ He needed to find Kacchan. Make sure he was alright.

 _Focus._ He needed to make it out of the battlefield, one way or another.

The fear dropped in on him like the Nomu had—suddenly, and without warning. Suddenly it wasn't the final exams but it was real, and Izuku and All Might were on opposing sides of the battlefield.

Izuku stopped where he was even though he knew he shouldn't. He crouched low, touching the side of a building and trying to shake himself out of it.

He heard a distant round of fighting.

"Kacchan," Izuku whispered. " _Kacchan."_

He needed to get up for Kacchan, so he did. He needed to get up because All Might was waiting, so he did.

The world exploded with sound. Izuku's balance left him; he hit the ground hard. When things cleared, he crawled to his feet, determined now to find Kacchan.

"Bakugou!" Izuku called, not caring that All Might would hear him.

It was like searching for Iida again. Izuku pushed away the fear, shoved bodily against it, and searched.

"Don't do this to me," Izuku murmured.

He finally spotted a figure, distant and still, lying amongst the rubble.

"Ka— Bakugou!"

He dropped down next to his friend and raced over. Dust swirled around them, clouds flying and obscuring their vision.

Izuku couldn't make out Kacchan's face, but then Kacchan rasped, "Deku?"

Izuku's heart squeezed. He knelt blindly until he could see Kacchan's face.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Izuku said, and the words were so, so hard to say. "It's me, Bakugou. Akatani?"

Kacchan struggled to sit up. Izuku saw blood on the side of his face and reached out to touch it.

"You hit your head."

Kacchan shook his head. His eyes sharpened when he took in Izuku.

"I'm fine."

He hissed when Izuku pressed a gloved hand to the side of Kacchan's head. It looked worse than it actually was, but Izuku thought the blow had confused him for just a moment. Maybe he'd just wanted badly for it to be Izuku.

"We have to get out of here," Izuku said. "We can't take on All Might."

"No," Kacchan said.

Izuku held out a hand, but Kacchan didn't take it, shoving himself to his feet heavily. He swayed for a moment under Izuku's watchful eye, but Izuku was relieved to find that he was mostly okay. He didn't seem concussed, either, which was a relief.

"We're going to do it," Kacchan said.

"Will you listen to me now, then?" Izuku said, trying to get himself back on track. Focus. "We need to work together… Bakugou."

Kacchan met his gaze.

"Please, Bakugou," Izuku said. "Wolves hunt in packs."

For once Izuku couldn't read what Kacchan was thinking. His eyes were dark like blood, but clear.

Kacchan turned and began to walk away. Izuku's heart dropped, and then Kacchan turned again.

"Are you coming or not?"

They slipped through the alleyways. Bakugou knocked a fist against the side of a building a few times, then repeated it. The second time Izuku understood.

 _Deku._

"I think I have a plan," Izuku whispered.

This time, Kacchan listened.

"Time is running out, heroes," All Might called. Izuku took a deep breath.

"Bakugou!" he shouted as loudly as he could. "Bakugou, where _are_ you?"

Izuku turned and ran deeper into the city. He could hear All Might begin to give chase.

"Bakugou, we need to _work together_!"

Izuku was an easy target to pick off. He was alone without help. He was heading in the right direction—towards the battlefield exit. All Might was going to stop him.

Well, not quite.

Izuku waved his hand, and a subtle screen of dust overtook the area. It was nothing that either All Might or Kacchan would find suspicious.

Izuku disappeared into the depths of his own illusion. He circled around, keeping silent. All Might pushed through to block the exit.

"Still hiding? I expected better."

"Well," Kacchan shouted, appearing out of the dust, light around him like a vengeful angel. "You want it, you'll fucking get it!"

All Might reached for him, but Kacchan attacked, letting loose an entire bracer's worth of explosions. Even All Might was pushed back by the force of it.

One for All was a comforting companion as Izuku came in from behind, Kacchan's other bracer in his hand.

He let it go.

The explosion sent him reeling backwards. Sound and light bombarded Izuku, but he shut his senses to it and forced his way through blindly.

Kacchan was there. Izuku could feel it.

All Might turned, but Izuku sent a well-timed kick to his head as Kacchan set loose an explosion close to his ear. Then Izuku wove an illusion in front of All Might's eyes, a patch of darkness that took his sight away. All Might went down as Kacchan delivered a hard hit to the back of his knees.

Kacchan was waiting for him. He took one side, and Izuku took the other. When Izuku saw his face he thought there was victory in Kacchan's eyes, and a little bit of longing.

The handcuffs snapped tightly around All Might's wrists, and before he could react, Izuku and Kacchan dragged him out of the battlefield. He knelt before them, defeated, but when All Might lifted his head he was smiling.

"Well done," he said, and Izuku smiled back. His ears were ringing a little, and there were a couple scrapes and bumps he'd have to get taken care of. But they'd done it.

"Double win," Izuku said, grinning. A bell rang, signifying the end of the fight.

" _Bakugou and Akatani have defeated All Might."_

Kacchan sniffed. "Of course we did."

All Might was released. He stood up and stretched, chuckling.

"Good work," he said, clapping Kacchan's shoulder and ruffling Izuku's hair. "You two had better head to see Recovery Girl. Sorry about the hit."

"I can take it," Kacchan challenged, though he looked like he wanted to puke.

"Come on, King Explosion Murder," Izuku said. "Let's go."

They went together, leaving All Might, and now the fight was over, Izuku felt the adrenaline leave him.

"Are you— okay?" Izuku asked as they trudged to where Recovery Girl had set up a tent.

Kacchan looked at him. "I'm fine."

"That's not what I meant," Izuku said, and Kacchan stopped. Izuku stopped, too.

"I'm… okay," Kacchan said, and it was real. Izuku nodded and held out a hand.

"We're rivals, aren't we?"

Kacchan took it, then hesitated.

"Friends," he muttered.

Izuku's breathing hitched; he couldn't form the words. Kacchan crossed his arms, looking a little embarrassed, but he couldn't take it back now that he'd said it.

"We make a good team, huh," Izuku said finally, "I think we work better together."

"Sure, whatever," Kacchan said, but Izuku could tell he meant yes. Finally Izuku thought he was beginning to see a way back, a path he could take, a light to follow. He just needed to find Kacchan, and things would fall into place.


	32. Chapter 32

**Flare Signal** _  
interlude iii_

* * *

There was something wrong with Katsuki.

Katsuki always brought groceries on Fridays. It was something he insisted on doing as many times as Inko protested, so she always tried to make dinner for him.

Katsuki was always loud. Even when he wasn't talking, Inko could tell he was there.

When Katsuki slipped in quietly carrying nothing but an All Might jacket, Inko knew something had gone wrong. He walked past her without a word, and she heard the door to Izuku's room open.

She let him have a little time to himself as she finished preparing the ingredients for soup. When Inko was done, she put a lid on the pot and went to go find Katsuki.

"Dear?"

Katsuki was sitting on Izuku's bed, looking out the window. He had a hand pressed against the glass like he'd seen something.

"Katsuki?"

He looked at her. He'd taken off his All Might jacket and carefully folded it over Izuku's chair.

"Can I sit with you a moment, dear?"

He grunted, which meant _yes,_ so Inko sat down on the bed next to him. She smoothed the blanket over. Katsuki sighed and leaned forwards, putting his face in his hands so she couldn't see it.

Inko waited for him.

"It's been five years," Katsuki mumbled finally, and he lifted his face. Inko smiled bitterly.

"And look where we are now. Look where _you_ are now."

Katsuki bit his lip. He and Izuku were different in many ways. Izuku had always been sweet and sensitive. He'd hold her hand. When he got hurt, Inko could kiss his bruises away, wipe the tears off his cheeks.

Katsuki didn't cry, not like her Izuku did. He was rough around the edges, and guarded himself in a thicket of thorns. Inko had spent years gently winding her way through them. Time and loss had changed both of them. There were never tears Inko could wipe with a soft towel, and all the hurt was inside, despite the light bandages around his head.

"You had your last final today," she coaxed, smiling, "I'm sure you did well."

The corner of Katsuki's lip tugged upwards, an echo of victory and self-assurance.

"Of course we did," he said, relaxing slightly. "Beat All Might."

Inko did a double take. "Beat Al- _All Might?_ "

He nodded. "Paired up and had to take on the teachers. Handcuff them or make it out of the battlefield." He rolled his eyes. "Supposed to 'real life simulations' or whatever."

"Goodness," Inko murmured. He'd told her last week that they would be partnered and expected to be fighting robots, not teachers. She sat up straighter, looking over Katsuki with a trained eye. "You're- you're not hurt badly, are you?"

"'M fine," Katsuki groaned, "don't worry about it."

"I'll always worry," Inko said, sighing.

She was infinitely proud of Katsuki. Of _course_ she was; she'd watched him grow up. She still remembered the days when he was small enough to fit in her lap, and now he stood tall over her. He was strong, and smart, and capable. But Inko would always worry that he'd end up hurt enough, or that one day Katsuki wouldn't come back, and she'd be left again.

"Not even your kid," Katsuki muttered, leaning back.

Inko smiled.

"Well, someone has to worry." She reached out and tweaked his ear, and he squawked and swatted at her hand in protest. "Besides, you're practically my son."

"Yeah, yeah."

"Tell me about finals," Inko coaxed. "Did something happen?"

She had to be patient. A little bit of patience would do the trick. Sometimes Mitsuki's way worked better, a little bit of loudness, a little push. Sometimes Inko found it was easier to wait.

Katsuki scowled. She liked it when he smiled better, but like his tears, Katsuki didn't often smile. Those were things kept close to the chest, guarded fiercely and only seen rarely.

"You said you were working with that Akatani boy…"

"Yeah."

"Well," Inko tried, "you did it, didn't you? You said you won."

"After All Might kicked my ass into a building, sure."

Inko gasped. It was like a shock of cold to the system.

"I kind of deserved it," Katsuki grumbled. He rubbed at his arm, looking sheepish. "Cleared my head a little, I guess."

Inko was smart enough to put a few pieces together. She knew this boy.

"You tried to do it alone, didn't you?"

Katsuki didn't flinch, but he tensed. Locked his shoulders.

"I know," Katsuki muttered, quiet now, "I shouldn't have done that, whatever, teamwork. But I— listened this time! I tried, like you told me."

"Oh, Katsuki."

"I was just being stupid—"

"Katsuki," Inko cut in sharply, "you know you're not stupid."

Katsuki made a noise. "Right. Yeah. Anyway I was being… unreasonable, and I got kicked into a building and then Akatani found me…"

He trailed off, eyes unfocused as he remembered. Past him, the sun was just beginning to set through the window, and the light was a soft pink in rectangles across the floor. The window was latched, like it had been for a long time.

"For a second…"

"Dear?" Inko asked.

Katsuki ran a frustrated hand through his hair. "For a second I thought he looked like Deku. There was all this dust, and I couldn't see, and I wanted it to be Deku. For a second it was him."

Inko pressed her hand tight against her mouth. She could feel her heart constricting painfully in her chest.

"Oh, _Katsuki_ ," she said, and the tears welled in her eyes. She wiped at them with a sleeve.

How many times had Inko done the same thing? Katsuki had come over and some days she expected to hear Izuku's laugh follow him through the door. Or Inko would see a flash of green hair the same color as hers in the supermarket, in the streets, and her heart would leapt in her chest. The first month had been the hardest—she'd seen him everywhere.

Most days Inko only saw him in dreams and photographs.

"I know, sweetheart," Inko said, "I want to see him, too."

"It's not fair," Katsuki said, lowering his face, "to Deku or to Akatani."

"You're still learning," Inko soothed.

Katsuki picked at a scab on his arm, and Inko reached out and stilled his fingers.

"I wanted it to be him so badly with me, and it was Akatani instead. Then I thought that Akatani is my— friend, too, and I had to get my head out of my ass and act like it, _argh…_ "

"I'm very proud of you, Katsuki."

He wrinkled his nose. "You always say that."

"I'm always proud of you, dear."

A faint blush colored his cheeks. He looked away, and Inko let him gather himself for a moment.

"You're moving forward, Katsuki," Inko said gently. She had been, too, taking small steps over the years outside of the little fortress that had been built around her own heart.

"I thought I could go it alone."

"You could," Inko said, acknowledging him, "but sometimes it's good to let people help you."

Katsuki struggled through middle school, Inko knew. She'd spent many nights on the phone with Mitsuki and Masaru, talking about Katsuki, talking about the anger he carried, the hurt it was born from. How they had all tried to be there for him in some way, to encourage him to make friends; how people looked at Katsuki and saw arrogance and explosiveness, but Inko looked at him and saw a boy who was scared.

"I guess."

She smoothed the blankets again. "Are you hungry, Katsuki? I made soup." Inko nudged him, smiling. "There's daikon I bought fresh yesterday. I know you like it."

The soup should be ready by now. Hopefully it hadn't boiled over and made a mess, but it shouldn't have.

"Yeah, sure," Katsuki said, and Inko guided him to the kitchen. She lifted the lid of the pot, and steam rose. A wonderful and light aroma drifted upwards. Katsuki grabbed a set of bowls, and she spooned soup into both of them.

Together the two of them ate quietly.

"Ow," Katsuki hissed. He'd been too impatient, shoving soup into his mouth while it was still burning hot.

"Katsuki," Inko chided gently. "You know you should wait. Have a little more patience."

He groaned, but blowed on the next spoonful. Inko sipped at hers.

"Do you think," Katsuki said, then paused to chew and swallow some daikon. "Do you think it's, like, _agh_ , hot, hot, hot."

" _Katsuki._ "

Katsuki stirred his soup and looked up. "Do you think he would be— is it, like, wrong?"

 _He_ was always Izuku, but Inko didn't understand what Katsuki was asking her. "I don't know what you mean."

Katsuki drank his soup violently, a descriptor that applied to many things when Katsuki was involved, and then hissed at the rush of heat. Inko sighed fondly. He'd never learned.

"I mean," Katsuki said, waving a hand, "fucking… is it—okay to be, _gah,_ is it okay to be friends and, and whatever? I don't want to… replace… him."

She stopped.

"Katsuki…"

He kept going, like now that he had started it was difficult to stop. "And I don't, it's not like I'm best friends with Akatani or anything, but I don't want, ugh, for him to feel like I- like he just reminds me of Deku and that's why, I don't know. Fucking idiot. He's not. I don't want him to be. But I want—"

Inko lifted her hand and stroked Katsuki's cheek with a thumb.

"Izuku would be happy to see you trying," Inko said, heart aching terribly, "like I am. You're not replacing Izuku by making friends, dear."

Katsuki sighed. Leaned into her hand.

"It's like me and you," Inko tried. "Just because Izuku isn't here doesn't make you a replacement for him. There's simply room in this home for you. There's always room for you."

Katsuki looked at her through half-lidded eyes. He seemed to be thinking; he'd learned to do that now, instead of completely rushing into things.

"...Thank you, Auntie Inko."

She kissed his forehead.

"Summer's soon," Inko said, drawing back. "Why don't you invite Akatani over, during the break? I would love to meet him."

Katsuki hesitated.

"Or maybe you could hang out?" Inko suggested. "That new All Might movie is coming out next month, isn't it? You could go with a few people. What about, ah… Kirishima, from the Sports Festival?"

"Maybe," Katsuki said, "I'll think about it."

"Good," Inko said firmly. She finished her soup. "Heading home yet? You'd better rest early today."

"Maybe a little longer," Katsuki said, "it's not that late."

"Let me know," Inko told him, "so I can pack soup to bring back to your parents. I've made too much."

"Don't need to."

"There's no stopping me," Inko said, her mind set. She took the empty bowls to the kitchen, passing the little All Might figure and smiling in its direction. Katsuki passed her and disappeared back down the hall again. She let him go; hopefully she had eased his mind, and there was nothing comforting like a bowl of hot soup, even if he was burning his tongue on it.

He would probably stay for a while longer yet, Inko thought. It was early evening still; maybe she could convince him to join her on a walk in the park, nice and peaceful.

Inko cleaned up the kitchen and found an old container she could spoon soup into. It was still a little warm, so she left it on the counter to cool and went to find Katsuki.

"Katsuki," she called, "would you like to—"

He was standing in the hallway looking at the pictures hanging on the wall. Inko wiped her hands on her apron and went to stand next to him. He was looking at a family photo, the only one Inko had.

Inko studied it. She didn't often take the time to look at the photos, passing by them every day like she did.

"You kept this one?"

In the frame's glass, Inko could see Katsuki's eyes narrow. Like there had been an absence in Inko's life for many years, there was an absence of fondness for Hisashi that Katsuki harbored. He had never liked her once-husband and had made it disdainfully clear.

Inko took the frame off the wall and slipped the photo out. Hisashi, dark and quiet, was smiling in it. He had a hand on Inko's shoulder—goodness, she'd been much younger then. Izuku was tiny but bright-eyed, small hand gripping Inko's. Happy and sweet, a family not yet torn apart.

"I don't know," Inko said, "wishful thinking, I suppose, dear."

"Shouldn't have trusted him," Katsuki said, bristling.

"Neither of us could have known what would happen," Inko said. She folded the photo in half—she'd throw it away later. "Don't think like that, Katsuki. What happened happened."

"It shouldn't have."

"Many things shouldn't have," Inko sighed. She squeezed his arm. "Would you join me for a walk, dear? It would be nice to breathe some fresh air after being holed up studying and testing, hm?"

Katsuki checked the time. "Alright, whatever."

"Don't forget your jacket," Inko told him, "you left it in Izuku's room. It might be colder out now the sun is just about set."

"Alright, alright," Katsuki grumbled, and disappeared into Izuku's room.

Inko looked at the empty picture frame and put it back on the wall. Surely there was some other photo she could put into it; maybe she would have Katsuki ask Mitsuki for a recent one of him.

In the kitchen, Inko looked at the photo one last time before dropping it into the trash can. She didn't need the reminder of Hisashi, as much as she had loved him. That time had come and go; Hisashi had walked as steadily into her life as he had out of it, taking Izuku with him.

Katsuki clomped out of Izuku's bedroom, jacket slung over his shoulder. He offered his arm to her, and she smiled and took it.

"What a gentleman," Inko said.

"Ha," Katsuki said and walked her to the door. He went outside first, and Inko checked the room again, spotting something gleaming on the table. Katsuki had left his key there when he'd come in, she supposed; Inko went to grab it and followed Katsuki outside into the cool air.

"You forgot your key," she said. Inko shut the door and locked it, and the two of them strolled out together.

"Thanks," Katsuki said, taking it. She squeezed his fingers.

"You're always welcome."


	33. Chapter 33

**Flare Signal** _  
chapter thirty-three_

* * *

The hero costume fit just right.

The Support Department had fixed it for him—well, fixed and upgraded. It'd gone through a couple of changes since the beginning of the year. Now it looked little like what Izuku remembered, though he hadn't been aware of much until now.

He held the suit against his body to study in the mirror. Then Izuku folded it carefully and tucked it away. He wouldn't be wearing it for a while.

Izuku hadn't seen any of his friends or teachers since school had let out for the year. It was strange; Izuku felt listless and empty without the routine of school. He missed them fiercely, but Izuku didn't dare contact anyone outside of a few text messages. He felt like he was being watched more closely now.

That didn't mean his friends hadn't tried. Kaminari and surprisingly Mineta had invited him to come with them to train at the U.A. pool; it sounded like a fun class activity, but Izuku declined. Both Iida and Uraraka asked him to hang out, too. Even _Kacchan_ had asked—more or less—if Izuku was available. He wanted to say yes, but he'd turned Kacchan down, too.

At least Izuku wasn't completely stuck in the apartment. He spent a week tailing Endeavor for his father, watching his movements and keeping track of any of his villain fights. Most important was the question of if Chimera could take him down, and though Izuku hardly supported the hero, he wasn't sure what would happen to society if the top two heroes were felled.

Izuku hadn't been able to answer.

He pulled the stack of notebooks from his desk and chose the most important ones to pack, putting the others in a different bag. The ones Izuku wasn't taking he would burn; they were too dangerous to leave lying around, no matter who found them.

His phone buzzed. Izuku glanced at the closed door to his room and then checked his phone quickly like Hisashi could walk in at any moment.

Iida had sent out a mass text inviting all of Class 1-A to the mall tomorrow.

 _If need be, we can acquire extra supplies for the training camp as a group outing,_ he'd written. _Attached is a suggested list of items to pack._

Izuku worried his lip, feeling uneasy. It would be nice for Izuku to stretch his legs and a good chance to see his friends; there were probably a few things he could use.

The replies came in thick and fast. A good portion of the class seemed to be excited about it. Despite his better judgement, Izuku texted back that he'd try.

Izuku had avoided talking about the training camp with Hisashi, but parent phone calls had come in from Eraserhead the week before. To Izuku's eternal surprise, Hisashi gave his approval - why, Izuku didn't know, but he wasn't going to question it.

His phone buzzed again. Izuku groaned, ready to mute the chat, then realized it wasn't anyone from Class 1-A.

 _ **Silver, 2:02 PM**_  
Leaving soon?

 _Yeah,_ Izuku texted back.

He finished packing what he needed, marking off Iida's list until there were only a few items left.

Izuku did have to head out if he wanted to meet Silver on time. He pushed the stuffed duffel bag under his bed and then slipped on a light jacket. It was hot now, so Izuku didn't really need it, but he liked the cover it provided.

He passed Hisashi's study and saw the door shut as it usually was. It looked like his father was busy, but that suited Izuku just fine. He didn't bother letting Hisashi know as he left.

Silver was waiting by their old meeting spot when he arrived, panting and out of breath. It'd been a long run after the move, and he hadn't trained in a while. Silver tossed him a soda, and they walked together in the shade.

"Free from school, huh?"

Izuku sighed. "Wish I wasn't."

"Mm. Izuku… is it true? About the League?"

He drank from the can, soda warm. "I don't know what you mean."

Her tail knocked lightly against his side. "I've been informed Hisashi broke off the alliance with the League." Her eyes narrowed. "The hell is that about? What happened?"

Izuku scuffed his shoe against the sidewalk. She didn't know; she probably hadn't been told anything, and it'd been a while since they'd been in contact.

"Did… do you know about Hosu?"

Silver swung to face him. "You were there."

Izuku laughed nervously, reaching for the back of his neck and scratching it sheepishly. "Well, the news didn't exactly cover everything…"

He told her about Stain and the fight. Told her about being snatched by the Nomu, then stopped, feeling phantom claws digging into his shoulders. Most of the incident had been swept from his mind in the chaos of final exams and time, but still a choking fear remained. Izuku drank more soda and found it hard to swallow.

"Hisashi…"

"Yeah," Izuku said, lowering his drink, "he cut off ties. Kurogiri was there, so he and Shigaraki got out, but I don't think we're… working together anymore."

"That's… good," Silver said, but she was frowning. "I don't know, Izuku, the League won't let go so easily…"

"You know me," Izuku said, knocking her with his shoulder, "super careful."

"Sure," Silver responded, smiling now. Her tail flicked the back of his hand, and Izuku nearly dropped his drink. He swatted at hers, trying not to spill his soda.

"Real careful," Silver teased.

"That was your fault," Izuku grumbled. "You knocked into me. Therefore _you're_ not the careful one."

"You break your bones."

"Not anymore!" Izuku held out his arms for Silver to see. "See, they're perfectly fine. Shut up."

"That wasn't a challenge," Silver warned. She pulled back her hair, longer now, and swept it into a ponytail as she tried to escape the heat. "If I hear you're breaking any bones I'll break them myself."

"That doesn't help," Izuku pointed out, "you'd just break more bones."

Silver shoved him, and Izuku laughed. "No promises."

"Oh, wait, Izuku."

Silver dug into her bag and handed over a small box. Izuku opened it curiously and found a bracelet inside. On a short black cord sat a silver charm in the shape of a scorpion.

He lifted it out of the box. "Is this…"

"It's a bracelet," Silver said.

"I have eyes," Izuku snapped, "I meant, it's for me?"

Silver shrugged. "I've had it for a while. Meant to give it to you a while ago for something or the other, but I didn't really get a chance."

"Silver…"

Silver smirked. "I told you you couldn't get rid of me that easily, huh?"

"Thank you, Silver," Izuku said, staring at it. He had to struggle to slip it on, but in the end Silver took his soda so his hands were free to put the bracelet on. He slid it around until the little scorpion faced upwards at him.

"Yeah, whatever," Silver said. She handed him his soda back. "In return you're telling me what you dragged me out here for."

"Huh?"

Silver raised her eyebrows. "You invited me, stupid. Not the other way around. You wouldn't have done it if it wasn't important."

Izuku sighed. He stopped and sat down on the curb, setting his soda down next to him. Silver squatted down next to him.

"Silver," Izuku said, feeling the summer heat press on him, "just… listen for a second."

"What do you think I'm doing?" she asked, but she nodded. He looked out at the street and ran his finger along the rim of the soda can.

Then he put his hand out and slid his fingers into hers.

"I have a plan," Izuku told her, and began to speak.

The following day was even hotter. When Izuku met his classmates at the shopping mall everyone was dressed for the weather, t-shirts and shorts abound. Uraraka waved excitedly at him. Iida was corralling a sizable group of fellow students.

"Haven't seen you in a while," Uraraka called, and Izuku smiled as he strolled over. She wrapped her arms around him in a hug and then drew back quickly, embarrassed.

"Yeah, well," Izuku said, the excuse feeling a bit lame, "it's- I've been busy. You look nice."

"Thanks!" Uraraka looked down at the dress she was wearing, pink and white like her costume. She beamed.

The class chatted, happy to see each other. Kacchan was chasing Ashido in circles, Kaminari cheering them on. Izuku was sad to see Todoroki missing from the group, but there had been quite a few people who'd declined to come.

They eventually split off into smaller groups. Izuku was happy to find himself stuck with Uraraka as everyone dispersed, promising to meet back together so they could get lunch together.

"Ready for camp?" Izuku asked, clasping his hands behind his back as they walked.

"Mm," Uraraka hummed thoughtfully, "I'm excited to see everyone again and get back into training. I think it'll be fun!"

Izuku nodded. He eyed an All Might display in one of the stores but didn't bother going in.

"What about you?"

"Ah," Izuku said, "I'm a bit nervous, to be honest."

"Aizawa-sensei is going to work us hard," Uraraka sighed. Izuku nodded distractedly. That wasn't _exactly_ what he was nervous about, but Uraraka didn't need to know, anyway.

"Oh, is that a new bracelet?" Uraraka seemed to take him in all at once. "And your shirt…"

"Er, yeah, my friend gave it to me," Izuku said cheerily. He glanced down at his shirt. "What's wrong with my shirt?"

"It's got a frowny face on it," Uraraka said, "it's summer! Shouldn't you be wearing one that's maybe a bit… happier?"

"I like this shirt," Izuku said, feeling defensive. He looked down at the cartoonish sad face on it. "It really reflects my innermost thoughts."

"Aw, _Akatani…_ "

The conversation was easy and lighthearted. The two talked about final exams; Uraraka commented she couldn't believe Izuku had managed to work with Kacchan. Izuku only shrugged bashfully.

"He's not that bad," Izuku said, "you just have to know how to work with him."

"At the beginning of the year he was at your throat," Uraraka pointed out, "I was just… surprised you two, ah…"

"Get along?" Izuku wanted to laugh. "He's… something."

He checked his phone. No new messages, and the time was still early. Izuku poked at it distractedly.

 _ **You, 11:03 AM**_  
We're still on, right?

Uraraka peered over his shoulder, and Izuku quickly shut his phone off.

"Who are you texting?"

"Ah… er, I'm, um, I'm meeting someone later," Izuku stammered, "I was just, er, well, yeah."

"You're not rushed, are you?"

"No, no," Izuku said, "we'll be fine, don't worry. It's nearby, anyway…"

"A friend?"

Izuku stared at his feet. "If you want to call him that."

They passed a bookstore. Izuku glanced briefly at it and caught something in the reflection. He stopped.

"What do you see?" Uraraka asked, stopping when she realized he had. "Oh… books?"

"Hey, let's go in," Izuku said, taking Uraraka's arm firmly and steering her towards the shop.

"You didn't say you needed books," Uraraka protested, bewildered. "Akatani…"

The dark figure in the reflection kept coming.

"Here," Izuku said, stepping inside. He looked around and spoke carefully. "Since your phone is dead, you can use mine to _call Tsukauchi._ "

Uraraka's brows drew together in confusion. "Akatani…"

Izuku pressed his phone into her hands.

"Tell him our _old friend_ is here," he said, "and I'm going to go say hello. Stay here, okay? So I can find you."

"Akatani—"

Izuku glanced over his shoulder. Shigaraki was eyeing the bookstore. He paused for a moment, looking casual, and then continued forward.

"Hurry," Izuku murmured, entering his password for her. "I'll see you later, okay?"

He left her in the store and walked out, trying to keep his heartbeat calm. Izuku walked steadily in Shigaraki's direction. They bumped shoulders, and then Shigaraki spun. An arm slung around Izuku's shoulders, and a moment later, cold fingers touched his throat. Izuku's blood ran cold.

"Hello, _old friend_ ," Shigaraki said, "let's have a chat."

Izuku tried to stop himself from shaking. He forced himself to stay calm, because he could handle it. And in a few minutes, hopefully Detective Tsukauchi would get the message—though perhaps a different message than expected, Izuku would get police and heroes and backup, and things would be fine.

"You're not one to make small talk," Izuku commented as they strolled away from the bookstore together. Izuku glanced briefly behind him. Uraraka was still inside— _good, safe_ —but she was close to the glass, staring with terrified eyes. His phone was pressed to her ear. Izuku smiled at her.

"I can make small talk," Shigaraki said, sounding a little offended. Izuku laughed, then regretted it when the grip tightened.

"What do you talk about," Izuku said, strained, "killing babies?"

Shigaraki sniffed. "There's no point in killing babies."

"You can't kill me."

"I will," Shigaraki said, "soon enough Sensei will be done with you, he doesn't need you. And then he'll let me have what I want."

Izuku wet his lips. "I don't think so."

"For now," Shigaraki said, reaching to tilt Izuku's head to the right. "Do you see that little girl over there, Izuku? Until I can have my way with you, I think I can still take my fill."

"Watch it," Izuku growled.

"You know," Shigaraki said, "I didn't expect to see you here. It's quite the coincidence."

"Funny," Izuku said, "I came here to shop, not to run into villains I don't like and no longer have connections with."

"Funny," Shigaraki said back, "I was under the impression that _you_ still belong to _us._ "

Izuku tensed. Shigaraki followed, pressing harder.

"I don't belong to anyone," Izuku said, "and certainly not to you, and certainly not to your sensei."

"…Is that what you think?"

"What do you want from me?" Izuku asked, straining. "You want me dead. I get that. Sensei wants me alive. Okay. But why are we here? Why are you here, Tomura?"

"There's something that has always bothered me," Shigaraki started.

"Great," Izuku said, "I'm not your therapist, but since we're here you might as well dramatically proclaim your woes or whatever."

Shigaraki ignored him.

"I hate you—"

"Cool," Izuku said, "don't hold your breath, Shigaraki, it's mutual."

"—but you… you're unimportant. I truly _despise_ Stain."

"The hero killer?" Izuku ran his tongue over his teeth. "You were all buddy-buddy a couple weeks ago, huh?"

Shigaraki huffed. He looked a little upset by Izuku's description of him being buddies with Stain, if such a thing were possible.

"There's something I don't understand," Shigaraki said slowly. He stared out at the crowds of happy people and seemed to grow darker in comparison.

"Try—"

"Don't test my patience," Shigaraki warned, and Izuku fell silent. "Everyone's eyes should be on _me._ People should be talking about _me._ Stain's weak. We're both the same, yet the whole of Japan fawns over _him._ "

"Maybe you're a bad villain," Izuku suggested.

Shigaraki pulled back and hit him. Izuku's vision spun, then stilled when Shigaraki caught him around the neck again.

"Tell me, Midoriya Izuku," Shigaraki hissed in his ear, "what am I doing wrong?"

Izuku shut his eyes. He just needed to keep Shigaraki talking. He just needed to distract Shigaraki long enough for backup to arrive, long enough so no one else would get hurt.

"You like to destroy things," Izuku said, "you're trying to change the world. Alright. But what… what makes you and Stain different…?"

"Yes…," Shigaraki breathed.

"He's like me," Izuku said, "have you ever watched that video, Shigaraki? The things he said went viral. He was right—there are things wrong in hero society that need fixing. He doesn't like to destroy things but killed according to his ideals. You… you lack conviction."

Izuku glanced up at Shigaraki. For a second he thought he could grasp Shigaraki, an echo of someone who might've been but wasn't.

"You want to be seen," Izuku whispered. He dropped his eyes. "I want to be seen, too."

Police sirens cut through the air. Shigaraki jerked, eyes going wide, and Izuku choked on air.

"Heroes," Shigaraki hissed, " _All Might…_ "

Shigaraki pulled Izuku up and began to drag him through the crowd. A cacophony of sound was beginning to stir in the shopping ward, panic awakening as people realized a danger was present.

"All Might," Shigaraki murmured, "All Might… I _hate him…_ "

Izuku drew in a shuddering breath as they moved towards an exit. He struggled, but Shigaraki put another hand to his back.

"Shigaraki—"

"That's why, _he's_ why. You remind me of him, everyone reminds me of him, everyone smiling and happy because of _All Might!_ "

"Stop!"

Shigaraki turned bodily, Izuku at his mercy. The police had broken through—Izuku spotted Detective Tsukauchi at the head. Their eyes met. Izuku blinked pleadingly.

"Let Akatani go," Detective Tsukauchi said, holding out a placating hand. "Just let him go, Shigaraki."

Guns trained on them. They'd shoot, but there was the chance they'd hit Izuku.

Shigaraki began to laugh, the sound low and delighted. Izuku watched Detective Tsukauchi tense, his hand shift just slightly.

 _Tsukauchi,_ Izuku mouthed, but could do nothing. He could fight back, but not before Shigaraki tore his throat out and disintegrated him to dust. Shigaraki's hand was warm now to the touch; Izuku could feel each of his fingers holding steady.

"Thank you, Midoriya," Shigaraki whispered, only for Izuku to hear. "I think I know now—All Might has been in front of me all… this… time."

Izuku's breath caught.

"Burn as brightly as you like, little phoenix," Shigaraki said. The pressure around Izuku's throat and at his back loosened. "The next time we meet, you'll help me kill All Might."

Shigaraki shoved Izuku forward. He stumbled, fell, felt his knees and the palm of his hand scrape against concrete. Heard a round of gunfire, shouts. He coughed. Izuku looked over his shoulder and saw Shigaraki disappearing into the darkness of a warp gate, then looked forward to see Detective Tsukauchi kneeling in front of him.

"He didn't hurt you?"

Izuku coughed. His throat unstuck.

"No," he said, and they stood up together. "Detective…"

Detective Tsukauchi kept a protective arm around Izuku, his coat a barrier against the outer world. The police barked orders and directions to each other, but it was no use—Shigaraki was gone.

Detective Tsukauchi tried to smile at him. "I guess we're both a bit early, huh. I was surprised when I got the call from your friend…"

Izuku peered out at the crowd. Uraraka—

"Is— are my friends safe?"

"We're securing the premises," Detective Tsukauchi said, "but no one appears to have gotten hurt. If you'll come with me?"

The mall was evacuated, wave after wave of people flooding the exits. The police combed the area, but there was no sign of the League. Detective Tsukauchi took Izuku back to the police station to run through the event.

Sequestered in a small, bare interview room, the two of them ran through what had happened together. Izuku told the detective about Shigaraki and All Might.

One of the police officers had thankfully retrieved Izuku's phone from Uraraka; he clutched it tightly. His phone hadn't stopped buzzing since they'd arrived, but Izuku had to turn his notifications off though he knew his friends had to have been worried. He sent out a short text that things were fine, then stopped checking.

"I don't really know," Izuku said, "I was just buying time. He didn't say very much about the League."

"Mm," Detective Tsukauchi hummed, looking out over his papers. "That's alright. I do have to compliment you today, Akatani. You did very well handling the situation, and there were no injuries or casualties."

"I'm glad," Izuku said, then stared at the floor. "There could have been."

"We'll find him," Detective Tsukauchi reassured. He put the papers into a folder and then leaned back.

Izuku wet his lips. His stomach twisted in knots, and then Detective Tsukauchi stood up.

"I think we're done here," he said, stretching. "Now— about our meeting…"

"Right," Izuku blurted, "I still want to talk to you. Alone, please, as soon as possible."

Detective Tsukauchi nodded.

"If you like, you can stay here and we can talk," Detective Tsukauchi said. He made a face. "I know it's not very comfortable, but at the very least it's private."

"Yes, that's fine," Izuku said. "Ah…"

"Let me get some tea, then," Detective Tsukauchi said, "and I'll make sure no one is listening in. We take privacy seriously here, don't worry."

He left, and Izuku bounced his leg nervously. He pulled his backpack towards him and checked inside; everything he'd brought was still there and accounted for. Izuku tried his phone.

Izuku looked around nervously. The room was bare, but there was a camera in the corner. One of the walls, Izuku assumed, had to be mirrored. The chances of being watched were high—but Detective Tsukauchi had promised that the conversation was private. Izuku had to trust him.

The door reopened. Izuku didn't turn but instead heard Detective Tsukauchi approach. He was carrying two steaming paper cups full of tea, and he set one down in front of Izuku. A pleasant fragrance drifted through the room.

"It's a bit cheap," Detective Tsukauchi admitted. He chuckled a little. "We get packs from the convenience store down the street. It's always a bit busy to make some proper tea."

"That's okay," Izuku said quietly.

Izuku was too full of nervous energy to speak. Detective Tsukauchi seemed to sense it and waited patiently.

"How are studies?"

"They're okay," Izuku said softly, "but—"

Detective Tsukauchi prompted him gently when he didn't continue. "But?"

"Haven't told anyone this," Izuku said finally, staring at the floor, "but, well, I was thinking of dropping out of U.A."

A stunned silence.

"Dropping from U.A.? I don't understand… from what I know, you're doing quite well."

Izuku switched positions, pulling his knees up to his chest instead.

"I think I need some help," he admitted. "Detective, I started something, messed up, I, I did something, and now I think I'm in a little over my head, and I'm- I wasn't, I didn't know who to go to and th- that's why I wanted to talk to you."

"Thank you for trusting me, Akatani," Detective Tsukauchi said, "and I would be glad to help you. But… you could've gone to one of your teachers, too—they're still pro heroes. You could've gone to Toshinori."

Hearing Toshinori's name hurt. Izuku rubbed at his eyes and willed himself not to cry.

"No, I couldn't have," he replied. "I… need _your_ help."

Detective Tsukauchi sat back on his hands. He nodded, face calm, waiting for Izuku to speak.

"Um," Izuku said, "Your Quirk allows you to detect lies, correct?"

"Yes, that's right."

"Okay," Izuku said, thinking. "Okay, okay. Okay. Um. Okay."

Izuku took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He could do this. He _had_ to do this.

"There are some things I don't think I can tell you," Izuku said slowly, carefully choosing his words. "But I think… I think you can, you can read enough in between the lines to- to put the pieces together, I think. And if you could- if you could do me a favor?"

"What do you need?"

"Tell me when I lie," Izuku said, holding Detective Tsukauchi's gaze. Then he continued. "There's a villain organization. Chimera. I think you know about it?"

Detective Tsukauchi leaned forward, nodding slowly. "I do."

"They're connected to the League of Villains," Izuku said, "which is what To- what Toshi… what Toshinori told me you work on. And, um, well, um… they've been planning to kill All Might for over a year now."

Izuku was shaking. "I don't know how much you know about One for All."

Detective Tsukauchi clasped his hands in front of him. "Most of what Toshinori knows."

Izuku looked down. He picked at the bracelet on his wrist. The little silver scorpion charm gleamed in the light.

Izuku ran a finger over the warm metal.

 _You think it's time?_ Silver had asked when they'd last spoken. She'd squeezed his hand tightly.

 _Yes,_ Izuku said, and he had been sure then. _I think things are going to fall apart. I can't do it._

 _I have you,_ Silver said, and he'd leaned into her as she'd drawn an arm up to put around him. _I've got you, Izuku._

Izuku thought about Silver now, and she gave him courage. Izuku breathed, felt his heart slow just slightly.

"Do you know about All for One?"

A sharp breath.

"Toshinori told you?"

Izuku tried not to think too hard about the League of Villains. The dingy bar, the smell of smoke, dark stains on the floor… the TV in the corner.

"I…" Izuku began, then stopped. "...Yes, I learned about it from him first."

Detective Tsukauchi's eyes widened a fraction.

"Lie," he said.

"He's weakened, but…" Izuku started, "he's alive. And still very, very powerful."

"The League of Villains and Chimera worked together to- to infiltrate U.A. That's why… at USJ…" Izuku couldn't finish. "The Nomus are _his_ creation. I think he intends Shigaraki to be his successor."

Detective Tsukauchi looked speechless. Izuku forged forward, knowing if he stopped he would be too scared to continue.

"Stain… the League's lost him, even if they disagreed with him. And they've lost Chimera now, too. I think Shigaraki will be searching for more villains to join him, especially now that they're crawling out."

"Lost… Chimera?"

"The Dragon broke ties with the League after Hosu, too," Izuku said, "they were dissatisfied with Shigaraki and his… plans."

Izuku cleared his throat. "An-anyway…"

Detective Tsukauchi looked troubled. Izuku had laid the pieces in front of him and he had been fitting them together, jagged edge to jagged edge. The picture seemed to be becoming clearer now.

"I'm not sure you'd answer," he said, "but will you tell me how you know this information?"

Izuku shook his head.

"I think you know," he said, and left it at that. Izuku hefted his bag up and dug out a notebook. He made sure it was the right one, flipping to the first page to find _Weaknesses_ printed in his handwriting. Then Izuku shut the cover and slid it across the table.

"It's not much," Izuku said, "I have a couple of notes about the League and Chimera. Some addresses. Any of the plans I'm aware of. The base of the League, though… it's not easy to find. There aren't very many people who know about it, and, well, I don't think they want to share, either. Oh, um, I did mark out what it looks like, though."

Detective Tsukauchi flipped through the pages. His face had gained a bit of color.

"Akatani," he said, "do you realize what you're giving me?"

"Yes," Izuku said firmly. Then he took out a flash drive out of his pocket, an All Might keychain attached to it. He put that on the table between them, too, All Might going face-down.

"Please be careful with this," Izuku said. "It's the only copy. I deleted the files off of my phone when I transferred them."

Detective Tsukauchi took it gingerly.

"Recordings," Izuku explained. There had never been enough time to do much else but keep his phone in his pocket whenever he'd gone to meet All for One, a hidden set of extra ears that had listened in carefully on their conversations. "That's all I have to offer, detective."

Detective Tsukauchi considered the two offerings, face lined. Izuku tried to smile.

"Consider me an… informant," Izuku said.

"Akatani—"

"Don't call me that," Izuku interrupted.

"What… should I call you?"

"Nothing yet," Izuku said lightly, then laughed. He let go of the name. "Phoenix, if you really like."

"Why… why now?"

"I'm sorry it wasn't any earlier," Izuku whispered, "I was… scared."

"That's not…" Detective Tsukauchi sighed. He had to have heard the truth in that. "I meant to ask you…"

"Shigaraki's ready," Izuku said, "and All for One will follow. We need to be ready to face him."

Detective Tsukauchi stood up. Wordlessly he walked around the table until he was in front of Izuku and then knelt in front of him. Izuku stared.

"Thank you," he said gently, "for trusting me."

Izuku's face felt tight, and his throat even tighter, but he nodded. When he swallowed he felt an invisible noose there.

"I think I understand," Detective Tsukauchi said, "but we need to talk about what's next."

"After the training camp," Izuku blurted. Detective Tsukauchi blinked up at him.

"It's only a few days," Izuku said, "and after that, Chimera or the League of Villains will never see me again. That's why I came to you, so I knew I could have somewhere to go."

Detective Tsukauchi was nodding. Izuku could have cried in relief, but today the tears seemed to have vanished.

"I'll make sure you have somewhere safe to go," he said, and Izuku hid his face in his hands, breathing. He didn't think this was happening, that it was real. By next week he would be somewhere else, safe, far from reach.

"I want to go home," Izuku said, feeling selfish, and Detective Tsukauchi pulled his hands away and held them carefully.

"I'll make sure you get there," Detective Tsukauchi promised. He moved closer, then hesitated and asked, "Can I hug you?"

Izuku nodded, and Detective Tsukauchi put his arms around him. Izuku pressed his face to stiff fabric and felt comforted. He felt different, but nice, gentle and reassuring. It made Izuku feel better about trusting him.

"Is it safe for you to go home?"

Izuku nodded again. "It's too suspicious if something happens. They won't hurt me. Don't worry."

"You can stay with me." Detective Tsukauchi looked him in the eye. "If you're not comfortable with that, you can stay with Toshinori."

"I need to get my things," Izuku said, "and if I don't get back my father will come looking for me. Please don't tell anyone yet, detective. You can have the information, but don't tell anyone who told you."

"It's confidential," Detective Tsukauchi said, "but…"

"I'd like to tell them myself," Izuku pleaded, "at least give me that. Just a few days."

Detective Tsukauchi nodded. "I'll find you after the training camp?"

"Please," Izuku said.

Detective Tsukauchi walked him out of the police station. The day was dark when they left, but there was someone waiting for him outside. Izuku didn't bother saying anything, simply walking into Toshinori's arms and staying there, drained and exhausted. When he looked back, Detective Tsukauchi's eyes were conflicted but clear. Izuku shook his head at him, and Detective Tsukauchi nodded.

"My boy," Toshinori said. He pushed Izuku's hair away from his face. Izuku blinked up at him and thought he was much better than Hisashi. He had always been.

"I have to go," Izuku said, "to let my father know I'm alright. He'll be upset."

He stepped out of Toshinori's arms and looked again at Detective Tsukauchi, who came closer. He put a hand on Izuku's shoulder.

"I'll see you soon."

"You promised," Izuku said, and Detective Tsukauchi nodded.

"I'll keep it," Detective Tsukauchi said, "you know where to find me."

Izuku bowed, and the tears did start, then. "Thank you, Detective Tsukauchi. I'll see you after the training camp."

Detective Tsukauchi put a hand on his shoulder and then leaned in.

"The next time I see you," Detective Tsukauchi murmured in Izuku's ear, "you'll be free."


	34. Chapter 34

**Flare Signal** _  
chapter thirty-four_

* * *

The bus ran over another bump in the road, and Izuku clutched his duffel bag tighter in his lap. His teeth clacked painfully, but Izuku didn't let himself relax any as the bus continued onward.

In the beginning of the long ride Izuku's fellow classmates had chattered excitedly to each other about the forest lodge they were going to. Izuku himself had been curious where their destination was—only a select few teachers knew the actual location, based on what Toshinori had told him.

Izuku swallowed. He hadn't gotten to see Toshinori before he'd left for the training camp, and he hadn't realized that his mentor wasn't coming along until he'd boarded the bus and looked around to find him missing.

When he'd asked Eraserhead, his teacher had told him flatly that All Might wasn't coming. Something something safety. While Izuku understood, he also thought that having All Might with them made it safer. Izuku felt safer with him. All Might, for his mistakes and his humanness, had never failed in that.

Izuku glanced around the bus tiredly. Tsuyu and Uraraka had fallen asleep on each other. Kaminari and Jirou were tossing a ball back and forth and making hand signs at each other, though none of the symbols made sense. Todoroki was reading, but next to him a few of the boys were in a heated video game competition. Next to Izuku himself, Mineta had popped one of his sticky balls off of himself and was playing with it. Izuku hoped he didn't stick it somewhere on the bus or to Izuku's things; they'd never get it off then.

Izuku sighed. He turned to look out the window like he had been the entire time. His fingers drifted nervously to the bracelet, and Izuku spun it around his wrist again and again.

Where was Silver now? He hoped she was okay. She knew now what Izuku was planning; he'd asked for her to go with him, but she'd shaken her head no.

 _Not yet,_ Silver said, _but I'll see you soon._

She'd put her arms around him. Izuku's eyes burned at the memory, and he remembered pressing his nose to her hair and smelling crisp lemon.

"This isn't goodbye," Izuku whispered, pressing a hand to the window. That was what she'd told him—the words had been out of reach, but now he remembered them as he drew further and further away.

"What?" Mineta asked. Izuku glanced over.

"Nothing."

Silver, true to her word, would try to keep Chimera off of his back for as long as possible. She knew a couple of safe spots, a couple names Izuku had written on his hand, memorized, and then scrubbed away under the sink faucet. Hopefully with what she could give him and what Detective Tsukauchi offered would be enough until Izuku could...

He didn't dare think about it. If he thought about it he would cry. If he thought about it it wouldn't come true, the same way Izuku had never told anyone his birthday wishes year after year for fear they wouldn't come true.

Trees flashed by in blurs of green. Izuku suddenly realized looking out the window that the bus was slowing to a stop. He glanced to the front, where Eraserhead was sitting.

Eraserhead narrowed his eyes across the way. Izuku cocked his head. Eraserhead's face was suspiciously blank.

"I don't like this," Izuku whispered to Mineta as they rolled to a stop.

"Rest stop," Eraserhead called, and the doors opened. The aisle was trampled by eager students looking to stretch their legs, but Izuku thought it was a strange time to stop, and when he peered out the window he saw no sign of any buildings.

"Come on, Akatani!" Mineta called, halfway down the aisle.

"Move," Kaminari shouted, stuck in the back. "Some people need to pee!"

Izuku shuffled in line. He turned to look at Eraserhead as he passed, and a flicker of a warning passed across Eraserhead's face.

They climbed out of the bus. Izuku stretched out, his limbs stiff from sitting, and looked around. This was definitely not a rest stop.

"Aizawa-sensei?"

Eraserhead crossed his arms and appraised them.

"This is the first training exercise of camp," he announced. Izuku looked around. All he saw was forest—maybe the exercise was to find the forest lodge and make their way through unfamiliar terrain?

"Dang it," Kaminari shouted. Mineta whimpered. Others grumbled.

Kacchan cracked his knuckles.

The training exercise turned out to be giant beasts made of Earth. Izuku had barely any time to fanboy over the Wild, Wild Pussycats before they'd been attacked and scattered into a million different directions. Izuku found no shame in screaming and running as a heavy creature slammed into the ground next to him.

For a while the class floundered. The students were all split up from each other, and many of their Quirks were useless. Izuku could hardly keep up using One for All, smashing through one beast but turning to face another.

Slowly, slowly, they pulled together. Izuku found himself fighting back-to-back with Kacchan, blasting through dust creatures together. The class followed their lead. Izuku, tired as he was, felt pride swell as everyone worked together.

They were blown horribly off track. Uraraka volunteered to get them back on the right path, floating so she could see over the thick forestry and then pointing them in the right direction.

When the class stumbled finally to camp, exhausted and dead on their feet, they found a group of pro heroes and a young boy waiting for him.

"You made it," Eraserhead said drolly.

Izuku glared half-heartedly at him. The only thing Izuku wanted to do was collapse on the ground and take a nice long nap right then and there. He didn't only because Ragdoll announced there was food, after which a stampede of tired and hungry teenagers shook the earth more than Pixie-bob's creatures had.

"That was terrible," Izuku groaned around a mouthful of rice.

"I'm so out of shape."

"It wasn't that bad!"

"Mineta, you panicked and hid in a tree for like, an hour. Shut up."

After dinner they lugged their bags to the lodge and hit the baths. A hot bath sounded nice, but Izuku faltered when he realized they were hot springs. He elected to sit on the side and join in on the conversation, but Izuku would rather shower in his own privacy.

"You won't join us?" Todoroki asked, testing the water. He slipped in, going under and then reemerging to look at Izuku.

Izuku shook his head. "I'll shower later."

Todoroki shrugged and left it. After the training—more like train _wreck_ , in Izuku's opinion—it was nice to relax and talk. The conversation was light now that everyone had food and was no longer hungry.

"What do you guys think we'll be working on? I mean, to come all the way out here…"

"Well," Izuku piped up, "the Wild, Wild Pussycats are a rescue team. So I bet they'll at least teach us a little bit about search and rescue."

"Mm," Todoroki said, "that's a good skill to learn."

"Probably our Quirks," Kacchan said. Even he had elected to join in and was leaning back along some rocks, enjoying the heat of the water. Everyone looked at him, and his nose wrinkled. He rolled his eyes.

"Haven't worked on our Quirks since the beginning of the year," Kacchan said. He crossed his arms and looked away, towards the wooden wall that surrounded them. "We're out of practice."

It was true, Izuku figured. Class was mostly dedicated to simulations or procedure. The internships had been more to explore the day-to-day of heroes rather than to improve themselves, though everyone had come back learning new things.

"Scared we're better than you?"

Kacchan scoffed. "You _wish._ "

"Hey, hey, hey," Kirishima called, "mister champion here beat All Might with Akatani, huh?"

Now the boys were turning to look at Izuku. He ducked his head.

"Well, I couldn't have done it without, uh, Bakugou," Izuku said.

"Man, how you two work together I have no idea. No offense."

"Do you guys hear that?"

The attention switched. Izuku found himself relieved when the eyes left him, but frowned when he saw Mineta standing by the wooden wall. He looked like he was up to no good.

"Hear what?"

Sound drifted over the wall—laughter.

"The girls?" Izuku asked.

Mineta nodded. He rubbed his hands together, and Izuku stood up, feeling something was not quite right about the look on Mineta's face.

"They have the same bath time as us," Mineta said, and Izuku stepped forward as Mineta unstuck two balls from his body and began to climb. Iida surged upwards, water spraying as he called out. Izuku shot across the springs to Mineta, barely grabbing the back of his shirt.

"Mineta—"

But the boy was already halfway up the wall, slipping from Izuku's grip. One of the others shouted in warning. Izuku activated One for All, preparing to leap after Mineta, but suddenly a small figure appeared at the top of the wall.

"What are you doing?" the kid demanded. Izuku's felt his own eyes widen as Mineta stopped, blocked.

"Hey, kid," Mineta whined.

The boy, no older than ten, lifted a foot and brought it down. Mineta dropped, falling into the water, Izuku too stunned to react.

"Mineta, the hell—"

Izuku squinted up at the kid on top of the wall. It was pretty high up, he realized. Dangerously so, even.

"Hey," Izuku called.

The kid glanced down. He sniffed disdainfully. "You call yourselves heroes. As if. I don't even want to look at you."

There was a murmur of voices from the other side. Izuku couldn't make out what the girls were saying clearly, but it sounded like a thank you. He glanced back at Mineta, who had been dragged out of the water by Iida and was being yelled at.

The kid on the wall turned away, then screamed and fell forwards. Izuku watched it happen in slow motion.

Then it clicked, and Izuku activated One for All, leaping up to catch the boy before he could hit the ground.

"You okay?" Izuku asked. "What's your name?"

The boy was breathing hard. He swatted at Izuku's hands until Izuku let go, then turned to run off.

"I don't want to talk to the likes of you," he shouted, "I don't need your help!"

"Hey— hey!"

The boy disappeared. Izuku looked back, where the boys had gathered around Mineta.

"I'm going after that kid," Izuku called. Todoroki nodded in acknowledgement.

"Oi, tell Aizawa-sensei what happened."

Izuku chased the boy all the way to the lodge, where he disappeared into one of the back rooms. Izuku burst into the kitchens and found his teachers gathered there, talking.

"Akatani?" Eraserhead asked when Izuku ran in.

"Where," Izuku panted. He raised a hand and pointed it in a vague direction. "There… there was a kid?"

"Ah, yes," Mandalay said, "so you've met Kouta. I was wondering where he'd gone off to! He didn't want to welcome you all earlier."

"Is something the matter, kitten?" Ragdoll stood, looking concerned.

"Uh, no," Izuku said, "well, I mean, yes. Actually."

He relayed the incident at the baths to all the teachers present, recounting how Mineta had tried to climb the wall over to the girls' baths. Then Kouta had appeared, stopping him, but had fallen as a result.

Mandalay left to go check on the kid, which Izuku was glad for, while the other teachers sat Izuku down to talk.

"Well, thank you for what you did," Ragdoll said. She smiled. "We really appreciate you looking out for Kouta. He could've gotten hurt."

"Well," Izuku said, shrugging, "er, you're welcome."

Eraserhead stood. "You said Mineta was still at the baths?"

"Yeah," Izuku said.

He thought about what Mineta had done, what Mineta had wanted to do. They'd sat together all year. Izuku was on friendly terms with him, and though Mineta was easily scared, he was certainly skilled if he put his mind to it.

But Izuku didn't really know Mineta very well at all, it seemed. He'd been busy getting caught up in other friendships and other enemies—what had Izuku missed by putting his head down and not looking around?

"Good handling the situation," Eraserhead said. He patted Izuku on the head as he passed. "I'll go… speak to Mineta."

Izuku watched, feeling a little uncomfortable. He wasn't sure what would happen to Mineta, or what he wanted to happen to Mineta.

"Thank you again for helping Kouta," Ragdoll said.

"Uh, yeah," Izuku replied. "Actually… I was wondering…?"

"Curious, are you, kitten?"

Izuku blushed. "Maybe a little. But— you don't have to explain anything to me if it's, uh, personal!"

"He's Mandalay's nephew," Ragdoll explained.

Izuku cocked his head. "Mandalay…? He doesn't seem to like heroes very much for the nephew of one."

"Ah," Pixie-bob said. Her smile was sad. "Well, you see, he was the son of heroes, too. Two years ago, they died fighting a villain trying to protect civilians—a true heroic death."

"Oh," Izuku murmured, looking at his hands. "I'm sorry."

"They died as many of us do," Mandalay said, reappearing in the doorway. "Doing what we love, protecting other people. It's a risk we all accept when we decide to become heroes… you, too. But Kouta was young when it happened. He didn't understand."

"I think I understand," Izuku said, frowning, "since their deaths must have been meaningful and praised."

"He thought they chose their jobs over them," Pixie-bob said, "of course, it's not like that. But it's difficult to understand, so he chooses to despise heroes instead."

"We're all he has," Mandalay said. She sighed.

"Yeah," Izuku echoed.

He thought he understood, maybe a little. But Izuku had been the one to be leaving others behind.

He'd grown up admiring All Might, admiring heroes, but… not everyone felt the same way. Villains certainly didn't.

"I hope he can find… acceptance," Izuku said, stumbling as he tried to find the right words. But the heroes seemed to understand what he meant.

"I hope so, too, kitten." Ragdoll wrinkled her nose at him. "Now off you go, no more talk about dying. You've got a long day tomorrow, so you'd better wash up and get to bed."

Izuku bowed, leaving. He made his way to the showers and took one quicky. By the time he was done, all of the students had gathered at the lodge and were getting ready to sleep. Izuku toweled his hair, waving at his friends.

He scanned faces and realized that Mineta wasn't among them.

Izuku found his bag, unpacking his bedroll. Todoroki shifted through a few people to set his own bedroll next to Izuku's.

"Looking for Mineta?" Todoroki murmured as Izuku tugged his bedroll straight.

"I know Eraserhead went to talk to him…"

Todoroki shook his head. "He told Mineta to get dressed and then dragged him off somewhere to talk, I think. We… haven't seen him since."

Izuku frowned. He looked over where a lot of the girls had gathered; Iida approached, bowing and speaking quietly compared to his usual volume. Izuku surmised he was probably apologizing to them, though it really should have been Mineta—not that they wanted to speak to him.

"Is it bad I didn't notice?" Izuku asked. "It's not really an excuse, but I got caught up in a lot of things. I guess… well, I guess you can have all the skill in the world if you want to be a hero, but it won't make up for character."

Todoroki looked at him. "No," he agreed carefully, "I suppose it doesn't."

Izuku couldn't sleep that night. There were too many things to think about, to turn over in his mind. He turned restlessly, hoping he wasn't bothering anyone.

He knew he needed to rest to prepare for training the following day. But Izuku couldn't seem to turn his brain off.

He rolled onto his back, staring through the deep darkness at the fuzzy ceiling. Around him there were the soft sounds of sleep—slow, steady breathing, the faint shuffle of a blanket, a deep snore. Izuku put his hand to his chest and felt it rise and fall. Deep inside of him, One for All slumbered.

When he lifted a hand he could just see it framed in the distant moonlight. Izuku sighed, let it drop, then sat up. He was careful and quiet as he slipped from his spot and crept outside.

It was nice and cool outside. Izuku breathed in deeply, then took a seat in the soft grass, lying down on his back. In the city he never got to see the stars, but now he could. He counted the brightest ones, then wondered if Silver had ever gotten to see them like this—clear, shining.

The porch of the lodge creaked. Izuku tensed, but a moment later a body dropped heavily onto the grass next to him. A voice followed.

"The hell are you doing up?"

Kacchan's voice was rough from sleep. Izuku turned his head so he could look at Kacchan.

"Why are you?" Izuku asked.

Kacchan frowned. "I asked first."

"I couldn't sleep," Izuku said, "now you."

"You woke me up, dumbass," Kacchan said. "You're quiet, but I'm a light sleeper. And the door was fucking loud. Don't they ever do anything about the hinges?"

"Sorry I bothered you," Izuku said, turning back to look at the stars. "You should go back to sleep."

When Kacchan didn't move, Izuku looked at him again. He'd crossed his arms in a stubborn and silent way of saying he definitely wasn't going back.

"What are you looking at me like that for, huh?"

Izuku blinked slowly, then said, "I'm glad we're friends, Bakugou."

Kacchan looked at him for a long moment like he didn't quite believe what Izuku had said, or didn't know how to respond. The roughness left him. Izuku wanted to put a hand to Kacchan's arm, to make sure he was real.

"Yeah," Kacchan said quietly. He dropped down next to Izuku. "Yeah."

The two of them simply breathed for a while. Izuku stared at the sky and thought about how alone he was, standing in the world—but that wasn't right. He eyed Kacchan. No, that wasn't right.

"I…," Izuku started, suddenly brave or foolish. Then he snapped his mouth shut, teeth clacking against each other.

"What?"

What Izuku wanted to say was, _did you miss me like I missed you?_ What Izuku wanted to say was, _I'm sorry, I'm sorry,_ what he wanted to say, _Kacchan. Kacchan, it's me._

He couldn't, so he said, "Why are you still here?"

"Here," Kacchan repeated. He sat up, leaning on an arm so he blocked part of the sky and Izuku had to look at him. "You said we were friends."

Izuku closed his eyes. "Yes…"

"I'm not a good person," Kacchan said.

"Yes, you are."

"I did a lot of—shit," Kacchan said plainly. He met Izuku's eyes like it was a challenge.

"So have I," Izuku responded, "but… Bakugou, we're both trying. We're getting better, I think. When I looked at you I saw…"

Izuku blinked. Looked at Kacchan and saw a piece of himself.

"I want to tell you something," Izuku said, but he didn't. "I think you're a good person, Bakugou. And I think you've got more friends than you know."

"You're passable," Kacchan said, and Izuku laughed.

"We should go back," Izuku suggested, but neither of them moved from their spots. Izuku knew he would regret it come morning, then decided that he wouldn't. Not for Kacchan.

"Can I ask you something?"

"You just did." Kacchan used his free hand to punch Izuku's arm.

"Do you ever wish you could go backwards?" Izuku asked. "Do you ever want to go back to— a different time? To the way things used to be?"

"Akatani," Kacchan said, and held his gaze, "there's no use in going back to the way things _used_ to be. You'll never have it the same way again. When things change they're never the same after."

"I know," Izuku murmured, "but I can't help but want to, sometimes."

There was nothing to do but look forwards. Keep forging his path until it was one that Izuku liked, one that he could proud of.

Kacchan wrapped his fingers around Izuku's wrist next to Silver's bracelet. Just for a moment. Just long enough to feel the pulse of his blood under his skin, just long enough to remember they were both alive. Then he dragged his hand back like it had never happened.

"I know," Kacchan said, "I know."


	35. Chapter 35

**Flare Signal** _  
chapter thirty-five_

* * *

Kacchan kept Izuku grounded. Even here, after you thought you had gotten help, after it was all over or almost over, Izuku still found himself scared. He was hidden in the thick trees but thought he could still feel Chimera's eyes on him.

It was like he'd spent years carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders, and finally someone eased the burden a little. But that didn't mean it was over. It was far from over.

The second day of the training camp, Eraserhead had them working on their Quirks, just like Kacchan had guessed.

Izuku was paired with Tiger. He hadn't expected an easy fight at all, but Tiger's reactions were terrifyingly fast. It was like fighting Gran Torino again, except… less Gran Torino.

Things weren't going well, though. Izuku's moves were sloppy, as Tiger was unafraid to point out. He was distracted. He kept looking over; unlike most of the class had believed, Eraserhead hadn't sent Mineta home. Izuku didn't know what Eraserhead had been thinking, but Mineta was now running laps in the distant hills. At least, Izuku reasoned, he was far away from any of the girls. Iida was running, too, pushing his engines as far as they could go.

At some point after being clocked Izuku asked for a break and then went to find Eraserhead.

"Can I join Iida?"

Eraserhead raised his eyebrows.

"I want to work on my stamina and my speed," Izuku said breathlessly, which wasn't a lie. "With my Quirk spread out across my body—Full Cowl. I think it'd work better."

Eraserhead grunted, but didn't seem surprised. "Fine."

Izuku bowed. He headed in the direction of the hills, One for All sparking, and raced upwards. In minutes he had joined Mineta.

"Run with me," Izuku said, leaving no room for discussion. Mineta did, and they set off.

Mineta kept shooting Izuku nervous glances, but Izuku kept going. He said nothing, staying with an easy pace the same as he would any other morning. Mineta had to work hard to keep up.

When they were far enough away from the others did Izuku slow.

Mineta followed his lead.

"Tough," he gasped, "tough workout, Akatani. You're—"

"Mineta," Izuku said, stopping.

Mineta stopped, too. He looked nervous, shifting from foot to foot as he wrung his hands. He was looking at Izuku like Izuku was someone to be scared of.

"You want to be a hero, right?"

"Well, _yeah,_ " Mineta blurted.

Izuku pinned him with a look. "Why?"

"W.. why? I—"

Izuku was already shaking his head. "Not why you want to be a hero, Mineta. I wanted to know… I wanted to know why you did what you did. The other night."

Mineta sucked in a breath. For a moment it seemed he had no answer. He snapped his mouth shut, and his speechlessness made Izuku upset. It made him feel a lot of things, actually. Upset, angry. A well of disappointment seemed to open up beneath him, and Izuku didn't understand why he felt tears prick at the corners of his eyes.

"I thought you…" Izuku said, but he didn't know how to finish speaking. He folded his hands over each other. "I thought you were— better than that, Mineta."

"Look, man," Mineta squeaked, "I…"

Izuku started to jog again. Mineta kept pace, staying one step behind. Izuku could feel him at his back, insistent. When the camp sprawled back into view, Izuku stopped again.

"Everyone here wants to be a hero," Izuku said as Mineta caught his breath. He gestured out at their fellow students, training hard. Fire and light danced across the sky. The ground shook. Each person was working on their Quirks, refining themselves into someone better and stronger.

"...yeah?"

"I think… anyone can be a hero," Izuku confessed, "but that's the thing. I think, Mineta, you could be a hero. So could I. Whether or not we would be good heroes is… it's up to us."

He paused. Izuku could see Kacchan, head tipped back, hands raised as explosions burst from his palms.

"I know I can't— make you do anything. And I'm not… I don't want to pretend to be perfect, either, but I think what you did was wrong. I'm not sure if it means anything to you, but you lost a lot of respect and trust." Izuku swallowed. He kept his eyes on Kacchan, always on Kacchan, but he could see Mineta just at the edge of his vision.

Izuku clamped a hand on Mineta's shoulder, pressing down. Then he lifted it and began a slow jog down the slope to rejoin the rest of the heroes-in-training.

He stopped and looked back. Mineta was standing still, watching him go.

"Mineta," Izuku called. Mineta's head jerked. "If you want to be a hero… you're going to have to find something that you really want. Something that you'd fight for. Because if you don't— I think in the end, it doesn't matter what your Quirk is or how successful you are, because you're going to be left behind."

Izuku swallowed. He couldn't quite breathe, but when he looked back down the hill he could take in air again.

"Akatani?"

Izuku paused.

"What… are you fighting for?"

Izuku kept his gaze on a distant figure, eyes locked. He reached up absentmindedly, touching his chest. "A lot of things."

He didn't know if he felt better, tracking down the hill. Eraserhead lifted his head just slightly when Izuku returned, acknowledging him with cool eyes. Tiger had finished fighting with a few other students, so Izuku went for a few rounds before drifting back in Eraserhead's direction.

Eraserhead's eye twitched.

"Aren't you meant to be training?" He flicked his fingers when Izuku didn't move. "Hm. Problem child."

Izuku dawdled a bit. "Training's almost over though, isn't it?" He inclined his head. "We've been at it for a while."

Eraserhead's mouth twitched. "Looking for a way out, huh?"

"Eraserhead," Izuku grumbled.

Eraserhead glanced up the hill. "Did you find what you were looking for?"

"I dunno," Izuku said. He rubbed his arm. "I'm— not sure I feel any better, really. But I don't know what more I could've done."

Eraserhead grunted. "It's not all up to you, kid. I'm the teacher here."

"You don't let us forget it," Izuku sighed. Eraserhead patted his shoulder, then went to call everyone to stop for the day.

They gathered outside the lodge, where it was announced from that point on they'd be in charge of making their own food. Iida immediately corralled them into different stations to make curry. Izuku was delegated to chopping vegetables and did so happily, falling into the repetitive motion.

Todoroki slipped up next to him, carrying firewood.

"I saw you leave to go run," Todoroki commented.

Izuku squinted at him. He went through another carrot, then said, "Yeah. I'm okay with running, but I'd like to build up using my Quirk while I do it."

"That's not why you went, though."

"That's not why I went," Izuku agreed.

"You think he should still be here?"

"That's not my call to make," Izuku said. He finished slicing all of the carrot and gathered it, setting his knife down before he glanced at Todoroki. "Why… why are you looking at me like that?"

Todoroki was watching Izuku pensively. His fingers trailed along a notch in the wood.

"You like to do that, don't you?"

"Huh?"

Todoroki smiled. "Get into other people's business."

"Well, well— I…"

Todoroki huffed out a laugh. Izuku liked it. "Just be careful, Akatani."

"Yeah," Izuku said, reaching for the mushrooms. "Though… I'm not sure these days if anything is working."

Todoroki cocked his head. "You got through to me."

"Yeah?"

Todoroki nodded. "You know… I admire that you want to help people. But you didn't get through to me just by talking, you know that?"

Izuku sliced the mushrooms methodically, thoughtfully.

"Sometimes actions speak louder than words," Todoroki said. He looked like he wanted to say more, but that was when Iida caught them standing together. Todoroki's nose wrinkled slightly as he was scolded for going off-duty, bidding a quick goodbye. Izuku laughed as he went.

Dinner that night was delicious. It certainly wasn't the best curry Izuku had ever had—no, Aunt Mitsuki's was pretty good—but it _was_ delicious, and warm. And there was something nice about the way they'd made it together.

Mineta was seated at the corner of the table. The others had left him a wide berth, but Izuku figured that was also because he was near where the teachers were sitting, enjoying their own meal. Izuku ran a calculating gaze along the members, counting students, then realized there was someone missing. He caught the flash of something red and spotted who he was looking for—Kouta, amongst the trees, disappearing quickly.

Izuku excused himself, hurriedly getting another bowl of curry before following. Luckily Kouta was smaller and so slower, so it was easy for Izuku to catch up and track his path. He followed him through the trees and in a pathway before they reached a cliffside.

"Hey, kid," Izuku called.

Kouta turned sharply. His arms moved in towards his chest when he spotted who had followed him.

"Leave."

"I brought you curry," Izuku said, unfazed by the way Kouta was glaring daggers at him. He'd seen a lot scarier.

Izuku set down the extra bowl, still warm, then took a step back.

"Get out!" Kouta shouted. "I _don't_ want to talk to you!"

Izuku held. Just a little bit longer, and then he would leave Kouta alone like he wanted.

"You don't have to," Izuku said, "I just wanted to say that I'm sorry. About your parents. I know it's hard when people don't come back—"

"Don't talk about things you don't understand," Kouta snapped.

"I do," Izuku said. And his heart hurt, and hurt, and hurt. When he looked at Kouta he thought he saw himself, or maybe Kacchan, what Kacchan would have been like. Ten years old and aching at a loss. Fighting something that couldn't be fought.

"It wasn't fair for them to leave you," Izuku said softly when Kouta didn't say anything, "but please understand… they were heroes. And they did what they thought was right, not because they wanted to leave you but because they knew you were worth fighting for."

"Dying for," Kouta said, and Izuku didn't have anything to say to that.

Actions, Todoroki had told him. But Izuku had run out of them.

"You should eat the curry before it goes cold," Izuku murmured. He took a step back and held up his hands. "I won't tell anyone about this place, I promise."

"Your word," Kouta scoffed at his back, and Izuku carried his troubles back into the forest.

Most of his classmates were still eating dinner when Izuku came back. Eraserhead tracked him with a gaze but didn't say anything as Izuku headed back towards the main lodge. He went to his duffle bag, shuffling in it until he found a piece of paper. Then he sat down on his bedroll, staring at the paper until the words came to him.

When the letter was finished Izuku sealed it quickly and then sat for a while, feeling empty. He suddenly and desperately wanted to see Toshinori, wanted to be told that it was going to be alright.

Boots clomped on the lodge floor. Izuku glanced up and met the surprised eyes of Kacchan.

"What are you doing here?"

Izuku huffed. He slid the letter into his bag. "None of your business, Bakugou."

The words came out shaky. Kacchan's brow crinkled. He glanced back at the door, but no one was coming; it was just them.

"Hell are you moping about now?"

"Nothing."

Izuku could never admit that sometimes he looked at Kacchan and was filled with fear. That Kacchan had forgotten about him, or stopped caring. Or that when Izuku told him, _if_ Izuku told him, that Kacchan would snap, sharp teeth glinting.

His greatest fear, though, had always been that Kacchan wouldn't want him back.

"Well, snap out of it," Kacchan said. He retrieved a deck of cards from his things. "I'm going to go crush everyone in cards."

"Yeah," Izuku said flatly. He pressed his shaking hands together. "Bakugou, wait—"

Kacchan stopped at the door, the darkness around him.

"Never… nevermind," Izuku choked out. "May- maybe I'll.. I'll come beat you in cards later."

Kacchan looked unconvinced, but he smirked. "You couldn't."

Then he left Izuku alone.

"Stupid," Izuku whispered. He lifted a hand and then brought it down hard on the floor. "Stupid, stupid."

Something fluttered out from his bedroll. Izuku stopped, sure it was just a piece of trash, then realized it was a small scrap of paper with writing on it.

With a start he realized he recognized the handwriting.

 _Silver, then gold,_ she'd written. _Silver than gold. Don't come back._

A chill ran up Izuku's spine. He didn't understand.

"Silver, then gold," Izuku whispered. He turned the words over in his head. Izuku looked at the paper, memorizing the informa. Then he stood, the world tilting as he nearly lost his balance, and strode out of the lodge.

Most everyone had gathered in a loose ring around a large bonfire. Izuku spotted Todoroki first, speaking quietly with Yaoyorozu on the outskirts. The two of them were holding marshmallows, though funnily enough Todoroki held his over a small fire on his fingertips. Kacchan had gathered quite a group and was playing cards like he'd intended, though from the look on his face he wasn't, well, winning. Aoyama was circling around the group peeking at everyone's cards. Izuku was tempted to join them as Kaminari whooped loudly in victory, raising his hands as the rest of the group groaned.

Uraraka and Iida, who were sitting on the side chatting, spotted him and waved. Izuku smiled weakly at them and lifted a hand in response, but didn't move.

 _Later,_ he mouthed, and Uraraka smiled and nodded, gesturing at an empty spot. Izuku rubbed at his eyes. He was looking for Eraserhead.

He passed close to the bonfire, the heat nearly unbearable. Izuku bore it anyway; he knew the heat of fire well. Izuku was careful as he passed, hand flicking out to the side. The paper fluttered but fell in, disappearing in seconds, eaten by the flames. Izuku stared at the spot the paper had been for a moment, then continued forward.

He finally found a ring of teachers not too far from the main bonfire, keeping watch. Not all of them were there; it looked like Tiger and Mandalay were missing. Vlad King was there telling stories to a mostly-captivated audience. A round of laughter burst out. Eraserhead had holed himself up in his sleeping bag, but it looked like he was listening, too. His gaze flickered from Vlad King to Izuku when Izuku approached.

"Hey, kitten!" Ragdoll called. Her smile was lazy, eyes soft. Izuku nodded shyly but shuffled over to stand over Eraserhead.

"Can I talk to you," Izuku whispered. "Privately."

Eraserhead blinked blearily up at him, but a moment later there was a zipping sound as he moved free of his sleeping bag. Izuku picked at his fingernails. Eraserhead nodded to the others, hand resting gently on Izuku's shoulder. They walked a few paces away towards the line of trees, getting farther from the fire. After a hesitant moment Eraserhead sat down, crossing his legs loosely over each other. Izuku followed.

"—Mineta?"

Izuku was staring at the ground when Eraserhead spoke. He jerked his head up, staring, lost.

Eraserhead repeated what he'd said. "Is this about Mineta?"

It took Izuku a second to process the question. "No— no. no. It's… not. But I did talk to him today." Izuku turned his gaze to the bonfire, where even Mineta was sitting by himself, looking pensive. Every now and then he would glance to the rest of the students, then look away quickly.

"You always involve yourself in things, hm."

"Is it wrong to?" Izuku asked. He cocked his head. "I just… need to. I know one of these days it might turn out badly or I might try to help someone when I shouldn't. But All Might—"

And he couldn't finish. His throat constricted, and Izuku looked back down at the ground again. He picked a blade of grass and began to methodically tear it into long, thin strips under Eraserhead's watch.

 _Start from the roots._

Eraserhead studied him. "No," he said finally, "it's not... wrong. It's what heroes do."

"That's what All Might told me," Izuku said longingly, "when we first met."

The desire to see All Might came back, pulling full force. Izuku knew that they thought it was safer for All Might to stay away, at least for the training camp—everyone knew that the League wanted him dead, now. It would have been selfish to want All Might here to wipe his tears, to hold him. It was selfish.

Better that All Might stayed away. Izuku bit down hard on the inside of his cheek until it felt raw.

"Did he," Eraserhead prompted.

"Yeah," Izuku said. "Eraserhead..."

When would Izuku stop being scared? When would Izuku stop feeling like a coward, his tail tucked between his legs? When would Izuku stop running, and running, and running?

"I..."

But Izuku dropped his face to his hands. He couldn't do it. He almost stood up and left then, but Izuku knew he couldn't do that, either.

"Can I," Izuku said, but he choked on the words.

"Akatani?"

Izuku refused to look at him. Eraserhead was going to have a look on his face, but Izuku didn't know if it was going to be pity or disappointment or frustration. Anger, even. Izuku didn't want to see it.

Izuku swallowed. He could feel himself starting to shake—it was always the hands, first, always the fingers trembling. He held them tightly together so he would stop. His heart had begun to beat so quickly Izuku feared even Eraserhead could hear it.

"Is there a problem?" Eraserhead asked, when Izuku couldn't figure out how to speak.

"Eraserhead," Izuku whispered, then faltered. "I... I'm sorry."

Eraserhead reached toward, hand in Izuku's sight, and gently turned Izuku's face so they were looking at each other. Eraserhead's face looked almost blank, but Izuku spotted the crease between his brows.

"What are you apologizing for?" Eraserhead sighed. "You haven't done anything wrong, kid. You're a problem child and you break your bones more times than I like, but you haven't done anything wrong."

"No," Izuku said, "no, no."

He wanted to cry. He wanted to run away, but running away would make Izuku even more of a coward. He had to be brave. He had to, because Izuku felt like everything he'd been holding in was now piling up—it was like trying to hold back the entire ocean with a wall, and sooner or later one of these days it would break. Izuku wanted to take the wall down himself, brick by brick. He'd built it, after all.

"Akatani—"

The bracelet on Izuku's wrist burned. Izuku twisted it around, letting his fingers move of their own accord.

Then Izuku said, "It's my fault, Eraserhead."

Eraserhead's fingers tightened. "What's your fault?"

"All of it. All of it. It was me, it was all me— I..."

"Akatani, stop. Look at me, Akatani—"

"That's not my name!"

Finally they both stopped. Izuku was panting, breathing hard. He'd cut into the air between them with a knife sharper than any physical one. Eraserhead had recoiled—instinct, Izuku thought. He'd moved away from Izuku.

"I don't understand."

"That's not my name," Izuku said dully. "My name is—"

And he hadn't said it himself. Not in a long time, but he thought of Silver and thought, be brave.

"My name is Midoriya," he said, "my mom named me Izuku. It's not a name you'd probably recognize, but I think the one you would know is Mirage."

Time slowed, then crawled to a stop. Around them the sounds of the night disappeared and faded into a soft buzz. Eraserhead went still. He still had a hand to Izuku's face, still tilting Izuku towards him, but now he had frozen.

"You…," Eraserhead said weakly.

Izuku brought his hand up. He glanced back so that no one would see, then set the illusion of fire around it. The flames danced along his fingertips, then twisted into smoke and disappeared. Not before Izuku caught the firelight in Eraserhead's eyes, though, and not before Eraserhead saw Izuku the way he'd first seen him.

"Illusions," Izuku said, because it was the easiest part to say. He tapped his chin, felt his Quirk rippling outwards as he changed his own features; then it disappeared again, even though the face that was left behind still wasn't quite right. He cleared his throat. "It's easier to hide when you can make stuff out of nothing."

Eraserhead found words again.

"This whole time," he said, "it was— it was you."

Izuku smiled bitterly.

"It was me."

"I thought," Eraserhead began, but the words had rough edges to them. "I thought... God, it was you."

"I've been—working with the League," Izuku admitted. He hadn't told Detective Tsukauchi that in so many words, but now he had to say it. "The incident at USJ... you were hurt— when we, when Shigaraki... it was all me. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I didn't want it. I never wanted it. I'm sorry."

"Akatani," Eraserhead, then stopped. "Midoriya."

That was when Izuku started crying.

No one had called him _Midoriya_ in years—at least, not anyone outside of Chimera or the League. Hearing his name again was like breaking through the surface of the ocean, like all the sound had stopped being distant and muffled and started being _clear._

He curled around his knees, crying into his hands, and repeated, "I want to go home."

"Midoriya," Eraserhead said gently. His hands appeared, blurry in Izuku's vision, but Izuku reached out. "Midoriya, it's going to be okay. It's going to get better. Will you listen to me?"

"Yes," Izuku gasped.

Eraserhead settled his hands on both of Izuku's shoulders to look him in the face. "It's not your fault."

"It is."

Eraserhead shook him a little. "It's not your fault. You're here now. Okay?"

"Okay."

"You're not alone anymore," Eraserhead told him.

"I don't want to be a _villain_ anymore," Izuku murmured. Eraserhead gripped his shoulders tightly, enough that it was starting to hurt, but Izuku didn't want him to let go. He looked Izuku in the eye.

"You were never a villain," Eraserhead said, "and you will never be. You understand that?"

Izuku put a hand to his chest, feeling himself breathe.

"You said before you would help me," Izuku said hoarsely, "please, Eraserhead. Help me."


	36. Chapter 36

**Flare Signal** _  
chapter thirty-six_

* * *

"Why do you look at him like that?"

Izuku hugged his knees. He'd long since stopped crying, the tightness in his chest having eased. In between the tears he'd told Eraserhead bits and pieces. Not all of it, but enough of the story so that Eraserhead understood.

Eraserhead had been— unfailingly kind.

He was kind of like Kacchan. Rough around the edges, but sincere. Izuku liked it.

"Midoriya?" Eraserhead asked, voice low.

"At who," Izuku said, but he knew perfectly well who Eraserhead was referring to. He hadn't told Eraserhead anything about life before Chimera. That was personal. It didn't mean Izuku found Eraserhead untrustworthy, just that Izuku felt like he'd come up against a wall every time he talked about his family. His real one.

"Bakugou," Eraserhead said.

Izuku sighed. Eraserhead had noticed, though Izuku thought it might be fairly obvious to anyone who paid attention.

"We were friends," Izuku said plainly. He didn't want to say any more than that. Eraserhead seemed to sense it and backed off, just slightly.

"That… makes sense," he said, tilting his head.

Izuku's face and voice felt raw. Most of the other students had trickled off to bed as it had gotten later, though Izuku hadn't noticed until the conversation had ebbed and he'd looked up to see the last embers of the fire dying.

Kacchan was still out, though. Izuku was surprised—he'd have thought Kacchan would have been one of the first to go, since he liked sleeping early. He'd procured a blanket—or maybe one of the teachers had—and was now sitting with it loosely around his shoulders. He had his chin propped on his hand, staring into the last pieces of the fire.

It was the wanting that hit Izuku, then. It was always the wanting. It ebbed and flowed—always there, an undercurrent, a tug in the same direction. But the more steps Izuku took forward the stronger it seemed to be becoming.

Izuku thought it must have been because now he felt Kacchan was… in reach, somehow. Like now Izuku could hold his hand out, and his fingers would just barely brush by.

A little further, Izuku thought.

"Alright?" Eraserhead interrupted.

Eraserhead had asked Izuku that, before. Each time had been no less sincere than the last. Izuku rolled the word around on his tongue for a moment, tasting it.

"Alright," Izuku tried out, and Eraserhead nodded.

"Do you want to keep talking?"

Izuku shook his head, then remembered. "There is—one thing…"

Eraserhead blinked at him, eyes glittering. He nodded in invitation, and Izuku stood. His limbs felt stiff. He stretched.

"I'll… be back?"

Eraserhead lifted his shoulders in a shrug. "I won't go anywhere, if that's what you mean."

Izuku stood there for a moment, fiddling with the hem of his shirt before he realized that Eraserhead was serious. He jogged back to the lodge, careful not to disturb anyone already asleep, and took the sealed letter from his bag. When he held it up to distant lantern light Izuku could see

Eraserhead was still waiting, like promised. Eraserhead had gone to talk to the other teachers, but when Izuku returned, he moved to meet him.

"Here," Izuku said, too drained to feel very much more. He held out the letter, and Eraserhead took it without hesitation. He scanned it.

"Toshinori," Eraserhead read, and Izuku nodded. "A letter?"

"No," Izuku said, "a failsafe."

Eraserhead reexamined what he was holding. "A failsafe."

Izuku shrugged, feeling a little sad. "I just… wanted to be sure, you know. In case, in case anything happens there are things I want him to know—"

"Nothing is going to happen."

"Just in case," Izuku pleaded, "I can still feel their eyes on me. They have my blood and they'll follow it."

"Nothing is going to happen to you," Eraserhead said again, firmly this time, and he stepped forward to look down at Izuku. "I won't let anything happen to you."

Then, out of earshot of the others, Eraserhead murmured his name. Izuku closed his eyes.

"Okay?"

"Yes," Izuku said, "but—please keep it for me. I'll take it back later, then."

Eraserhead tucked the letter away and jerked his head in the direction of the lodge. "You should get going, kid."

"I," Izuku said slowly, "don't really want to go."

"Go," Eraserhead told him, voice gentle, but he wasn't looking at Izuku anymore. Now his gaze was settled over Izuku's shoulder; Izuku turned and saw Kacchan sitting alone, eyes half-lidded.

"I'll… see you tomorrow?"

The words came out a little more desperate than Izuku meant them to. But Eraserhead just nodded. He put a hand on Izuku's back and shoved him forward a little; Izuku stumbled, looked back at him once, then crossed the distance to Kacchan. He crouched down.

Kacchan slid a warm gaze onto Izuku. He seemed softer, like the night before.

"Hey," Izuku whispered. Kacchan grunted. "It's late."

"You didn't seem to care about the time before," Kacchan grumbled. Izuku smiled.

"I care about it now," he quipped. "Come on, King Explosion Murder."

Kacchan levelled him with a look Izuku couldn't decipher.

"What?"

"You're just like him," Kacchan muttered, so quiet that Izuku almost missed it. Close enough to touch. Izuku just had to reach out.

He settled for resting his fingers on Kacchan's shoulder. "Come on."

They trekked back the lodge together but slowed outside. Izuku was tired, but he didn't really want to sleep.

"I saw you talking to Eraserhead," Kacchan noted. Izuku's heart missed a beat, but he wiped his hands on his shirt and nodded coolly.

"There was just— a problem. I wanted to talk about."

Kacchan nodded. He didn't look like he was going to push Izuku any further than just the question itself, so Izuku relaxed. He felt eyes on him and turned, fingers reaching for his side though there was no knife there and saw Eraserhead watching them. Kacchan turned, too.

Eraserhead inclined his head. Izuku shook his. He didn't need words to know what Eraserhead was suggesting—tell Kacchan.

Not today. Izuku was tired and worn out enough. If he told Kacchan… no, no, though the thought hurt, not today. The thought hurt, but telling Kacchan would hurt more.

It was like— it was like carrying a shard of crystalline glass in his heart. When he moved it hurt. But taking it out might hurt more.

Not today, Izuku thought. There was always tomorrow. Dangerous thinking, Silver would have called it, but Izuku remembered the look that had been on Kacchan's face earlier and decided that it wasn't the right time.

"Goodnight, Bakugou," Izuku said, biting down on his tongue when he'd almost said _Kacchan._

Kacchan ran a hand through his hair. He studied Izuku like he knew all his secrets. But he didn't say anything more, just shouldered his way into the lodge. Izuku followed as he always had.

The next day when Izuku woke up he felt different. He couldn't tell if it was a good different or a bad different, just that something had changed and shifted in the night. He'd woken early—earlier than his classmates, it seemed, but it was right on time for Izuku. He'd been knocked out of his schedule for a while now, but Izuku thought it would be nice to take an early morning run to get back into it.

He got ready and dressed in an old set of clothes before pushing his way out the door. The morning light was grayish. Izuku stretched languidly, feeling the light chase away any last sluggish bits of his nightmares. When he was ready, he eased into a jog.

Izuku decided not to go far. He hadn't seen any of the teachers up and about, which meant that Izuku was alone.

The jog was short and uneventful. Izuku liked it, though. The woods were a nice change of pace; it was different from jogging through the city streets, a little more challenging. The soft greens and deep browns of the forest were calming to look at.

It was nice to slow down. Izuku spent the last few minutes alone, running his fingers over tree bark and breathing in the fresh air. The morning was warm and comfortable; after his run, Izuku sat for a moment in the grass and listened to distant birdsong. He wondered what it felt like to fly. With One for All he could run like the wind, but he was sure it would never quite replicate the feeling of having wings.

Training today had moved from Quirks to skills. Izuku kept his knives on him and felt safer for it, though he knew he didn't really need them. The students were paired randomly to spar, and unlike the day before they fought without their Quirks.

Izuku's first round was with Hagakure. Izuku felt it was a good match. He'd gone up against a lot of heavy-hitters, but Hagakure was more like Izuku without One for All. Her style relied on stealth, and it was hard to block against an opponent when he couldn't see where she was hitting.

"Hah," Hagakure crowed happily when she managed to catch him unawares and knock him down.

Izuku pinpointed her voice as he rolled to the side. This time he closed his eyes, pretending like it was an exercise with Bonestealer and he'd been blindfolded again. Invisibility couldn't trick all the senses. The soft crunch of grass came from his left. Izuku twisted smoothly to the side and felt the press of air.

Hagakure cried out when Izuku found her arm and pulled hard. He felt her stumble heavily and swept a foot out. There was a dull thud when Hagakure hit the ground, and Izuku opened his eyes again.

"How'd you do that?"

"You're invisible," Izuku pointed out, "but not silent."

"Huh…"

"Too bad we can't swap Quirks, huh?"

" _Oh,_ that would be so cool!"

An invisibility Quirk would be useful. Instead of creating illusions Izuku could have just vanished and gone, and by the time anyone would've realized it was too late. But Izuku thought it must have been terrible to be invisible your entire life, then thought he understood that, just a little. It wasn't the same, but it was lonely when people could see right through you.

"You know, uh," Izuku blurted, "we don't know each other all that well but I think you're great, Hagakure. It's… hard to miss you."

"You really think so?"

Izuku turned so he could look in the right direction, lifting his eyes to where he thought her face was. Then he grinned.

"Well, I got you, didn't I?"

She laughed.

"Hey… thank you, Akatani," Hagakure said, sobering, and Izuku smiled.

They were called to swap partners, so Izuku said his goodbyes to Hagakure though he wished he could have gotten more practice with her.

He wanted to find Kacchan and did, wading his way through the crowd. They switched partners, and Izuku grinned toothily at Kacchan.

This spar was friendly. Casual, even, and easy.

"Heard we were doing," Kacchan started, then ducked under Izuku's fist, "something fun tonight."

Izuku didn't spare a glance to Eraserhead. He jabbed, trying to get under Kacchan's defense. "Fun?"

Kacchan made a noncommittal noise.

"The teachers have," Izuku hissed, a blow glancing off his ribs. "The teachers have a different definition of fun."

"Some test of courage," Kacchan said, and Izuku saw the opening under his arm and went for it. He pounded at it, and Kacchan took a step back. Izuku chased after the chance. Hit. Hit again.

"Break," Izuku said, a moment before his fist connected again.

Kacchan stumbled back, giving way, and Izuku let up. They took a break, getting water.

"Test of courage, huh?"

"Mm," Kacchan responded. He didn't seem pleased at the outcome of the spar, but he didn't seem too upset either.

"Hey…"

Izuku wiped at his sweat, tugging at his shirt for the heat. He cast a look towards Kacchan.

"What."

"Can I, um…"

Kacchan took a long drink. He lowered the water bottle.

"Spit it out," he grunted, "you've been trying to talk to me for ages and you haven't, and it's kind of pissing me off."

"Sorry," Izuku said, and Kacchan's face darkened. He didn't like the apology, then, nor wanted it.

"Well?"

Vlad King called for them to swap again.

"Not now," Izuku said, "not private enough. Too many people to overhear us. I want to talk to you later."

"You going to waste my time?"

"I'd never," Izuku promised. "It's important."

"Better be."

Izuku drifted over to Uraraka. She cracked her knuckles, looking threatening, but the effect was ruined a moment later when she smiled at him.

"I feel like I haven't talked to you," Uraraka said. Izuku frowned, a knot of guilt forming in his stomach. Uraraka saw the look on his face and held her hands out. "No, no, you're fine! We've all been busy."

"I guess," Izuku said, readying himself. The thought distracted him, though, and suddenly he found Uraraka shifting forwards.

Izuku kept himself steady, watching her hands. She tackled him a second later, but Izuku grabbed her forearms, the two grappling. When she released him, Izuku dropped towards her. They went down together, rolling in the grass and dirt.

Uraraka tried to hit him, but Izuku dodged. Then he pinned her down, careful of her hands, and waited until she nodded at him before standing up. Izuku offered her a hand up and she took it, dusting herself off. A quick fight no longer than a few minutes. Izuku wiped at his face.

"I hope you don't think I was— avoiding you or anything," Izuku said, rubbing at the back of his neck. "I just, you know, training and everything going on."

"No, no," Uraraka insisted, "you're fine! We were just missing you, that's all. Actually I think the others wanted to do another bonfire tonight if you want to join us? You don't have to—"

"Yeah, yeah," Izuku said, "yeah, that sounds great. I, uh, I have to talk to Bakugou later but… save me a spot?"

"Bakugou, huh?" Uraraka glanced over to where Kacchan was ruthlessly gunning down a 1-B student. They winced together, and Uraraka turned back to him. "You two are an interesting pair. Well, anyway, don't be silly— of course we'll save you a spot."

"Thanks," Izuku told her honestly, and was grateful for it.

The rest of the morning continued like that. At noon they had a quick lunch, and then played a modified game of hide-and-seek tag, using their skills to find each other or hopefully to make it to the base.

Izuku found himself steadily growing more anxious over the day, though. He tried not to dwell on it, but Izuku had never been very good at pulling himself out of his head once he dove into it—that was where Kacchan helped. But it was Kacchan that was the problem.

He wanted to relax and have fun. For a while Izuku did, slipping through the trees unnoticed and laughing quietly when he and Todoroki ran into the same hiding spot. Hide-and-seek tag was tense but electrifying, and Izuku grounded himself in the feeling.

Over dinner Eraserhead caught his eye. Izuku glanced at the others, jogging over when no one seemed to be paying attention. Eraserhead flicked his forehead.

"Alright?"

"You don't have to keep asking," Izuku said, but he felt secretly glad for it. "I'm fine. Oh, have you seen Kouta?"

"The kid?" Eraserhead grunted. "Took a bowl of stew and ran off."

Izuku nodded distractedly. He must have gone back to his hiding spot, then. Izuku was tempted to go after him, to talk again, but he thought about what Todoroki said and decided he didn't think it would go any better than it had before.

He had other things to worry about, too. Kacchan had sent him a few looks over dinner; he hadn't forgotten what Izuku said.

"I'll— catch you later, Eraserhead," Izuku said.

"Wait."

Izuku cocked his head.

"Does anyone else know?"

To an outsider, the conversation was harmless. Vague enough that no one would know what they were talking about unless they'd been present when Izuku had confessed the night before.

"Detective Tsukauchi," he said, "I trust him."

"Have you arranged anything?"

Izuku shook his head. "He offered, though. I think I'll take him up on it until I can… figure out what comes next."

Eraserhead nodded sharply. "Good that you have someone you trust. I'll get in contact with him to offer any assistance."

"You don't need to…"

"Heroes never need to do anything," Eraserhead said, "but we do it anyway."

"—and I trust you," Izuku said. Eraserhead blinked at him for a moment at the words and then cuffed him gently over the head. "Thanks— thanks. I think Kacchan's waiting for me, I've got to go."

"...Kacchan?" Izuku heard him mutter behind him as Izuku scampered off in the other direction. He hadn't meant to say _Kacchan_ , but it had come so naturally. When he said _Bakugou_ it never seemed right.

The test of courage followed immediately after dinner, and Izuku saw his opportunity as the teachers explained the rules. He half-listened to the teachers telling them how they would switch between classes and scare each other. When Todoroki and Kacchan were paired together, Izuku quietly muttered a plan to his partner, then went to go stand in between the two.

"You wanna switch?" Izuku asked Todoroki. He smiled and slung a hand over Kacchan's shoulder playfully, even though he was shrugged off and snapped at. "I'll deal with Bakugou."

Todoroki looked relieved, and though Kacchan tried to hide it he seemed to feel the same way. He muttered a quick thanks, disappearing into the crowd.

"You did that for me?"

"Don't be so self-centered," Izuku said. "I thought I'd make the sacrifice and get stuck with you so he wouldn't have to. You two hate each other."

"I don't hate him," Kacchan said, scowling.

"I'll be telling him that, then."

"Shut up," Kacchan snapped, digging an elbow into Izuku's side. Izuku yelped. "Besides, you were the one who wanted to talk to me."

"Yeah," Izuku said, then went quiet. The nerves kept him nearly silent as they lined up, waiting for their turn. Izuku watched pair after pair shuffle into the forest, and distantly he heard a few screams.

"Test of courage," Kacchan muttered. "They can't scare me. Bet you'll scream."

"I'm not screaming," Izuku shot back, "you'll be the one who'll get scared, Bakugou."

Kacchan scoffed. "Is that a challenge?"

"Is it?"

They shoved and quipped at each other until they were too far out of line, and then they were promptly yelled at. After slinking back Izuku gnawed nervously on the inside of his cheek. He kept glancing over at his partner, but didn't dare say anything. Once they were into the woods and out of sight and hearing, Izuku would tell him.

He could do it. He could do it.

When Izuku and Kacchan were called to take their turn, Izuku's stomach flipped. He wrung his hands, twisting his fingers together. Telling Eraserhead had been difficult. Telling Kacchan should have been easy, but he was harder.

"Test of courage," Izuku told himself, trying to breathe.

"Scared already?" Kacchan asked as they trekked into the forest. They went a little farther before Izuku stopped.

"I'm not scared of them," Izuku said.

"Then why are we stopping?"

"I told you I needed to talk to you." Izuku bit his lip. "I'm not scared of them, Bakugou, but I am scared of… you."

Kacchan took a step back. He shook his head disbelievingly.

"Scared of… me," he said slowly. Kacchan swallowed visibly, but then he seemed grow angry. "Bullshit, Akatani."

"I wasn't finished," Izuku broke in.

"You've never been _scared_ of anything," Kacchan said, and it felt like a compliment the way he was saying it, "much of all me."

He sank back, and the anger dissipated a little. "So what the hell is up with you?"

"I'm—"

But Izuku stopped. A scream split through the air, and this one was _real_.

"Did you hear that?"

"I have ears," Kacchan snapped. Izuku went immediately on high alert. He kept his breathing even but shallow and went still, listening. Another panicked cry cut through the air, and Izuku _moved._

He was jerked back. Kacchan kept a tight hold on his wrist.

"Let go," Izuku growled, but he stopped struggling when Kacchan held out his free hand and pointed.

Smoke.

"That's not from us," Kacchan said in a low voice. He let go, and Izuku pulled a knife free from his side, glad he'd brought them along.

"No," Izuku agreed. "We need to stick together, Bakugou."

Kacchan nodded, eyes sharp.

"We're not going back."

"We're not going back," Izuku agreed.

He looked past Kacchan and saw the forest swathed in a purple haze. He squinted at it, then realized it was growing thicker and thicker, a cloud of gas spreading in their direction.

"Run!"

The scent of something vaguely sweet touched his nose. Izuku covered his mouth with his free hand, then lifted his shirt to cover his nose and mouth. Kacchan followed suit, and they dodged out of the cloud of smoke that was sinking through the trees.

"Sleeping gas," Kacchan hissed, voice muffled.

"We should get to the others," Izuku said, "the ones in the forest."

"We need to warn the rest of the students," Kacchan said. They looked at each other, clear of the gas for a moment.

"We could… split up."

"Absolutely not, dumbass."

Izuku sighed. Kacchan was right. With no real grasp on the situation, splitting up would make things worse.

"We should…" Izuku worried his lip. They couldn't stand around waiting. "I know we both said we weren't going back, but I think we should tell the teachers that something's wrong. They won't know. And then we'll come back for the students who are out here."

Kacchan hesitated, but then nodded. "Let's go."

They ran through the trees blindly. Izuku hoped they were heading in the right direction. In the midst of fear and after going off track, they had stumbled somewhere far from the course. Now nothing looked familiar.

Partway back, Izuku skidded to a stop. Kacchan stopped too when he realized Izuku had.

"You have to go alone," Izuku said, "I trust you, Bakugou. I need to take care of something."

"Take care—"

"Kouta," Izuku said, "I think I know where he is. I have to go make sure he's okay."

Kacchan wavered. Izuku pointed in the direction of the cave where he knew Kouta would be, alone.

"Find me," Izuku said.

Kacchan gripped his shoulder. "Don't be more of a fucking idiot than you already are, got it?"

"Only if it's mutual," Izuku said. Then he turned tail and began to run.

Kouta. Kouta. Izuku's heart brimmed with fear. Kouta was so young—certainly not defenseless, but Izuku knew he was alone. And whatever was happening screamed foul play. A forest fire Izuku could believe, but the sleeping gas…

Izuku felt sick. He covered his mouth with a hand as he ran, knife still out as he stumbled.

 _They found me._

It was the only explanation. Maybe they weren't after Izuku specifically, but they'd followed him somehow. Izuku had bled all the way here, and the villains had come with their noses to the scent of it. They could taste fear.

"Stupid," Izuku cursed, then ran faster. One for All screamed in his ears as he pushed himself as fast as he could go. The trees thinned, and the grass gave way to dirt and rock.

"Kouta!" Izuku shouted, and then shut up. He couldn't give himself away if there was anyone there. If there really were villains like Izuku thought…

He wasn't scared for himself. Izuku thought he'd known the villains would come for him, whether it was now or later. But what he hadn't wanted was anyone else getting involved. Anyone else getting hurt.

Izuku crept up the cliff side silently. He drew his illusions around him until he was flickering rock the color of smoke.

A shout cut through the air. Izuku heard it and felt it like a cut in his own heart.

Kouta.

He didn't waste any time. Izuku peered around the corner and saw Kouta standing first. Then he saw the large, hulking villain that towered over him.

 _Muscular._ The name rose in his memory.

"You killed my parents!"

Muscular laughed. "I'll be glad to help you join them. Funny… they're not here to save you, huh?"

Kouta took a staggering step backward, and Izuku moved. In an instant he'd put himself between Kouta and Muscular. He pressed a hand tight against Kouta's shoulder. The other was holding his knife threateningly.

"They might not be here," Izuku said, looking Muscular in the eye, "but I am."

"Huh…"

"Kouta," Izuku hissed, " _run."_

"You look familiar…"

"Really," Izuku said, thinking fast. He scanned Muscular. There was no way Izuku could beat him, but… he had to try. Just long enough for Kouta to get out of here, long enough for someone to come, maybe.

Muscular grinned toothily. When he stepped forward his eyes shone, and Izuku's gaze caught on one of them—a cybernetic eye, glassy and strange.

"You're going to be coming with _me,_ " Muscular growled.

One for All rose. Izuku heard Kouta breathing quickly behind him; he reached out with his free hand and shoved blindly. Izuku felt Kouta stumble.

"Go!"

Muscular raised a hand and brought it down. Izuku dodged out of the way, throwing himself in a different direction. When the dust cleared Izuku saw him again, closer, and he rolled to the side. Kouta shrieked his name, and Izuku reached for the boy. He grabbed him and practically threw him down the path.

He turned, but the distraction had run its course. A heavy fist connected; Izuku barely registered the pain, only that he'd been thrown off his feet. He hit something hard and felt his vision ripple.

 _Kouta,_ Izuku thought, and forced himself up. He needed a hero. Izuku wasn't the best one, but he'd give it all he got.

He managed to slip under the next fist and brought his own rippling with power. One for All shuddered when Izuku hit, but he felt like he'd just hit a wall.

The world went sideways as Muscular grabbed him. Izuku sailed through the air; he remembered to curl in on himself and landed rolling. A sharp pain ran through his foot. Izuku got up again.

The muscle augmentation, Izuku realized. His Quirk. He could withstand great force, even one like One for All.

"You can do this," Izuku whispered to himself. Heroes were one thing, but he knew villains. He took stock in the short time he could, using One for All to stay on defense.

"Stop running," Muscular called.

He was a lot larger than Izuku. Pure, brute strength, and built. But that meant Izuku was faster than him.

With his Quirk Izuku couldn't beat him in strength, at least not with the percentage of One for All Izuku could use safely or with a hundred percent. He wondered if he poured his all into what would happen, like All Might had done at USJ; then he dodged another hit and dismissed the thought. If Izuku used One for All past his limit he would only hurt himself further.

"Running will keep me alive," Izuku responded.

Muscular chased him down the slope. Izuku wondered where Kouta was, if he was back at the main camp yet. Where Kacchan was.

He saw a small figure up ahead and realized it was Kouta, then saw someone behind him. Izuku felt like crying in relief when Kacchan met his eyes.

The ground shook. Izuku heard Muscular breathe, heard his feet still for a moment, and that was all the warning he got.

Izuku reached out, One for All sparking against his skin as he grabbed Kouta then Kacchan, holding tight as the ground fell out from underneath them. He clung on, only trusting his sense of touch. Dirt rained down around them.

Izuku coughed, stumbling, but when he felt solid ground beneath his feet he moved.

"Bakugou!"

Kacchan was torn from his grip, but— Izuku blinked. He was fine. Kouta was clutching onto Izuku's shirt, and Izuku squeezed his hands before easing them.

"Hey, dickhead!"

Kacchan launched himself forward. It was only surprise that made Muscular take the hit, but he recovered quickly. An arm swung out, and Kacchan dropped midair.

Izuku shouted, heart in his throat. Kacchan caught himself, rolling when he hit the ground and looking back just once.

"Bakugou, let's _go!_ "

Two against one. They still wouldn't win.

Izuku had done the calculations. The best option to surviving was to run like hell.

Izuku scooped Kouta up and began to bolt. Kacchan caught up and ran with them, boosting himself with his explosions in short bursts. One for All kept him moving.

"Bakugou, huh?"

Muscular was close on their tail.

"I've been looking for you and your friend," Muscular called, laughing. Izuku felt Kouta stiffen and shot to the left as Muscular cut between them.

"Well, you can suck it!"

He was catching up. Kouta's breath shuddered in Izuku's ear.

Kacchan suddenly twisted and let loose a torrent of explosions. Fire burst by Izuku's ear; he recognized it and forged forward faster. Then Izuku dropped Kouta to the ground, told him to run, and turned to face Muscular.

Kacchan was moving swiftly away from Muscular's attacks. Every now and then he would cut in close, let loose an explosion, and spin out again. His Quirk had a slight effect if anything at all.

Muscular batted out with a hand like he was swatting a fly. Izuku saw this one and tackled Kacchan out of the way, the two of them sliding. His hand scraped painfully. Izuku's knee throbbed.

Kacchan dragged him to the side, and then Izuku rolled on instinct as a foot stomped down. He needed, he needed—

Muscular stumbled, sightless just for a moment. Izuku gasped at the moment, keeping the illusion tight. Muscular reached out blindly, and that was when Izuku realized. The eye.

"Eyes," he said, pressing close to Kacchan. "He can't protect them. We need to get to the eyes."

The illusion dissolved. Izuku didn't have time to worry about whether or not Kacchan had seen his trick, and if he had, Kacchan didn't have the time either. Kacchan rolled his shoulder back, glancing sideways at Izuku. Then he rushed forward, screaming.

Muscular caught Kacchan mid-air.

"Is this all you've got?" Muscular asked. "Surprised the League wants a weakling like you."

Kacchan struggled as Muscular squeezed; Izuku focused, even when Kacchan made the smallest sound of pain. Then the noise turned into a shout of anger as he twisted in Muscular's grip.

One for All sang in his blood. Muscular turned to face Izuku, but Izuku was there, leaving the ground faster than Muscular could catch. He slammed into Muscular's arm; it tightened around him, but Izuku didn't need to be close. The knife slipped between his fingers, but Izuku flicked it. His arm ached but held as Izuku rotated his wrist back and threw.

He didn't miss. Muscular cried out as the knife jammed into his eye, and the grip around him loosened. Kacchan tore himself free, and they both ran.

"Hold on," Izuku told Kouta, feeling breathless.

"The gas," Kacchan called.

Izuku met his gaze to show he understood, then pulled his shirt up. He had Kouta cover his nose and mouth as an enraged howl chased them.

They stumbled to the sleeping gas. Izuku tried not to breathe in, but the sickly sweet taste slipped through the thin fabric of his shirt. Izuku could taste it on his mouth. Kacchan's explosions had stopped. Izuku could see him moving, a dark shadow.

"Split up!"

And Izuku veered left as Kacchan veered right, Muscular barreling forwards blindly. Izuku risked a glance back and cast an illusion again, wispy figures springing to life.

The fog was getting thicker. Izuku coughed wetly, limbs sluggish, but he staggered forward.

He stumbled out into the clear air and kept running. He heard a dull thud behind him but didn't dare look back. Kacchan was nowhere to be seen.

Villains. The League.

He'd been right, and now that they were out of immediate danger Izuku could feel it catching up with him. Kouta was quiet, but Izuku could hear him breathing. It kept Izuku going. Small fingers dug into the back of his shirt, his neck— good, good. He could feel it, grounding him, keeping him going.

"Akatani!"

Izuku thought he was hallucinating, the sleeping gas tugging st the edges of his senses. But Kouta's fingers scrabbled across the back of his neck. When he stumbled into Eraserhead's steady grasp he knew it was real.

"Eraserhead," Izuku gasped, knees going weak. He couldn't cry, not in front of Kouta, but he shuddered. Kouta tugged on his sleeve and Izuku set him down.

"Akatani," Eraserhead said. Izuku held onto the sound of his voice like it was an anchor. Then, quieter, " _Midoriya."_

He felt like a fish stranded on land, air burning in his lungs. He wanted to cry. Out of danger the adrenaline was fading, but Izuku pinched the back of his arm hard and felt tears well in his eyes.

"It wasn't me," Izuku said the moment he could get words out. "Eraserhead, please, I swear it wasn't me, I- I don't, they… I didn't say anything I swear, I'm sorry—"

"Stop."

Izuku breathed. Eraserhead held on, and Izuku pressed his face to Eraserhead's shoulder.

"We'll head back to the lodge," Eraserhead said, "to safety. You'll stay there with the others."

"I can't do that."

"You…"

"I need to tell… I need to tell Mandalay."

Now that Kouta was safe the fear for him abated, but a different one took its place. Kacchan was in danger. Izuku didn't know what the League wanted with him, but he was in danger.

"If it's important—"

"They want Bakugou," Izuku pleaded. "He knows, he heard, but… and I have to go after him. Please."

Eraserhead wavered. Izuku could see the conflict in his face.

"I know you don't like it," Izuku begged, "but this is _my_ fight more than anyone's. And I won't let them get what they want."

Kacchan. Kacchan. What did they want with Kacchan?

They wanted Izuku, too, but Izuku had known that. Villains were all the same. Once they had their hands on something they were wont to let it go.

"Please."

Eraserhead swallowed. His eyes were pained.

"When you reach her, tell her there's a message I need her to relay. I, pro hero Eraserhead, authorize all students to use their Quirks in defense against the villains."

Izuku's hand slid to his second knife. He'd lost the first one to Muscular. One for All pulsed in warning.

"Re- really?"

"I don't plan on losing any of my students tonight," Eraserhead said. He gripped Izuku's arm. "Come back, do you hear me? I said I wasn't going to let anything happen to you, and it's a promise I don't intend to break."

Izuku swallowed.

"Yes," he whispered, and Eraserhead let go. Izuku turned his back, drawing on One for All and bursting through the trees. Mandalay first, Kacchan next. Mandalay first, Kacchan next. Come back. The words slipped into a mantra Izuku repeated as the forest bent around him, the trees seeming to shift as he crashed through.

A fight had broken out when Izuku burst into the clearing. He staggered back as the Wild, Wild Pussycats surged forward locked in a deadly ring. Izuku spotted Pixie-bob crumpled on the ground, head bleeding; he stopped breathing when he saw her silent and still, then cut through the battle to grab her. Pixie-bob was heavy and awkward in his arms, but Izuku stumbled towards safety. Ragdoll, Izuku noticed, was nowhere to be seen.

Izuku didn't recognize the villains that were fighting, but they looked dangerous.

"Mandalay!"

Mandalay struck the villain she was fighting with a howl, claws tearing through, and he went down. His partner screamed in fury but was tackled by Tiger, and they went tumbling down.

Mandalay looked up when she heard Izuku call her name again.

"I've got a message for you," Izuku said, then relayed it. Her eyes widened, but she nodded.

Soon enough Izuku was running again. The Wild, Wild Pussycats could hold the fort—Mandalay first, Kacchan next. He had no idea where to go but followed the path of the test of courage, this time quieter but no less urgent. Distant sounds steered Izuku in the right direction. He fingered his second knife and pulled it, hand tightening around the familiar grip.

A hand reached out, grabbing Izuku's shoulder, followed by another over his mouth. Izuku jerked, turning with his knife as he and his captor tumbled into the leaves—

"Shoji," Izuku gasped, knife stopped just shy of injury.

"Shh," Shoji murmured.

"I could have," Izuku started, but stopped when he saw a dark, pulsing _thing_ swing over their heads. He only registered it was a claw, peering through the leaves to find a large massless shape tearing through the forest.

"Dark Shadow."

"That's, that's…"

"We were attacked," Shoji said, and quickly explained about the villain with razor-sharp teeth that found them.

"And now—"

"And now," Shoji agreed, and they both went quiet as Tokoyami shouted helplessly. Dark Shadow swarmed around. They drew closer; an eye peered in Izuku's direction, and then Shoji grabbed Izuku's arm and began to pull him.

Stabbing pain shot up his foot. Izuku's vision twisted as his leg crumpled underneath him; he was hardly aware of when Shoji lifted him and began to run. Dark Shadow screamed, and the chase began.

"Light," Shoji said, "we'll need light. If you can run back and get help, I can keep Dark Shadow busy."

"I," Izuku gasped in his ear. He needed to get to Kacchan before it was too late but— there was no choice in leaving Tokoyami or Shoji, either.

Shoji avoided another attack.

"I know the others are in danger—"

Behind them, Tokoyami shrieked uselessly. He was sobbing something, telling them to leave him. Izuku felt his chest turn inside out.

"I have a plan," Izuku murmured, and Shoji listened.

When the first glittering line of teeth appeared Izuku faltered, but Shoji was the one running. He saw fire bursting ahead. The air left his lungs when he saw Kacchan and Todoroki together, trying to hold back the villain Moonfish.

"Light!" Shoji roared.

Todoroki turned, expression confused, and Izuku waved an arm.

" _Light!"_

Kacchan turned, hands blazing as Dark Shadow barreled through behind them and slammed into a set of teeth. The teeth shattered, and Dark Shadow shrieked in triumph. Moonfish, suspended in midair by his own teeth, turned a cloudy gaze in Tokoyami's direction, but it was too late.

Shoji raced forward as Dark Shadow let loose. Izuku watched numbly as he tore Moonfish from the air.

"No," Moonfish screeched, "no—"

A loud crash sounded.

"Now!" Kacchan shouted, "Now, dammit!"

Not a second too late. Dark Shadow turned his gaze on the huddled group, but Todoroki and Kacchan stepped in with glowing hands. The light burst against the darkness, and Dark Shadow retreated.

"Grab him," Izuku whispered, and Shoji dropped him to catch Tokoyami when he fell gracelessly.

Todoroki stepped back and spotted Izuku, crouching by his side and relieved now the danger was over.

"You're hurt," he said, and Izuku pushed himself off the ground. Todoroki steadied him.

"I'm fine," Izuku said, and met Kacchan's eyes over Todoroki's shoulder. "We need to get moving."

"I'm sorry," Tokoyami was saying in the distance, "I'm so sorry, I was so angry when I saw you were hurt and I just lost control, I didn't mean to—"

"It's okay," Shoji said gently. He patted Tokoyami's arm with a free hand. "You don't need to feel guilty about the situation, Tokoyami. And Akatani is right. We need to get back to the lodge."

"We heard the announcement," Todoroki said, "about Bakugou."

"Let's go back," Izuku said, "and with all of us here we can escort Bakugou. Not a bad group."

"I don't need escorting," Kacchan protested.

"The villains are after you for some reason," Izuku said, tired, "and we'd all like to go back in one piece, so shut up."

"Come on, Bakugou," Tokoyami said, ambling forward.

The group fell into line, Kacchan in the center. The march was silent but solemn. Izuku drew his knife and kept it out as he limped forwards, One for All lying in wait for its next use.

"Someone up ahead," Shoji reported, and Izuku held his knife at the ready.

A shout sent them running forwards. They broke formation and headed through a line of trees to see Uraraka and Tsuyu together and a young blonde girl, blood over her hands. She leapt back when she saw the group of students that arrived, then paused. Her eyes—gold, Izuku thought—met his.

"Oh," she said softly, arms dropping slightly. Her gaze had wonder, not anger, and Izuku raised his knife, noticing she had one in a hand, too.

Then the villain turned tail and scampered off into the trees. Todoroki and Uraraka moved at the same time, but Tsuyu held out a warning hand.

"We don't know her Quirk, kero," she croaked, "we shouldn't look for a fight."

"You're right," Izuku sighed. He looked over the girls. "You two okay?"

Uraraka was flushed but nodded. Tsuyu looked unhurt.

"We're protecting Bakugou," Todoroki put in, and Izuku turned to look for Kacchan and saw an empty gap where his friend had just been.

"Bakugou!"

"Looking for someone?"

Izuku caught a flash of motion, and his arm jerked of its own volition. A knife embedded itself in a tree trunk, but the villain he'd aimed at leapt gracefully out of the way.

"You," Izuku growled, One for All spreading over his body. The pain dulled again. "Give him back!"

"Now, that's not very polite," the villain said. "It's just a little magic."

"What did you do to Bakugou?"

"Oh, nothing your friend can't take. The name's Compress, by the way." Compress smiled, and Izuku caught the light in his eyes behind a mask. He waved a gloved hand, and two marbles slid in his palm. "Sorry, all. I've got to go."

"Give him _back,_ " Izuku shouted, the fear and anger making his voice swell, and Compress laughed.

"Give him _back?_ He's not yours." Compress wiggled his fingers. "Sorry, all. I've got better matters to attend to."

"After him!"

Izuku was already on Compress' heels. He heard the others following and ran faster, pushing One for All. His bones screamed under the pressure, but Izuku kept going.

He saw an opening when Compress missed a step and lunged. Izuku snagged the back of his coat and yanked backwards hard, sweeping out a foot. Ice raced around him as Todoroki caught up.

Izuku reached for Compress' pocket, but a shouted warning made him drop as unfriendly fire hissed overhead.

"The party's started," Compress murmured. Todoroki leapt forward and engaged with another villain, this one scarred with burns and spitting blue fire from his palms. "Ah, Dabi!"

"Let my friends go," Izuku growled in Compress' face, One for All crackling threateningly. Ice cracked. Compress tackled Izuku, and they went rolling. Around them the sounds of fighting rang in the air, but Izuku gripped Compress' arms with a fierce strength. He couldn't let Compress touch him—it'd activate his little magic trick.

"You'll be a nice addition to the collection," Compress said, but a moment later Izuku punched him in the face hard.

Something flew from Compress' mouth.

 _Kacchan._

"I've got them!"

"Not so fast," a different voice said, and Izuku felt his body ache as more villains revealed themselves. More. There were so many.

More, and more.

Izuku lost himself to the fight. Students and villains faced off, and though Izuku knew they were strong, he felt the defense give. With every punch Izuku sent he felt the villains retaliate—stronger, faster, harder.

Uraraka went down screaming, and Izuku shouted, tackling the villain who'd gotten to her. The girl laughed when she saw him.

"You," she whispered, but in his fury Izuku hit her, tearing the knife from her grip and cutting down. But she only laughed harder, eyes sparkling.

"Contact Kurogiri! We've got our target! Toga—"

"No!"

Izuku knocked down the villain he was fighting.

As one Izuku and Todoroki sprinted forth while the villains retreated. Todoroki reached over, wrapping fingers around Izuku's wrist and tugging him faster and faster. They left the others behind, but Izuku didn't care—his gaze was locked on the cloudy marble between Dabi's fingers.

Izuku ran forward but reeled back as Dabi turned, sending fire streaking towards him. Someone wailed, and then Izuku realized he was hearing the echo of his own voice screaming. Todoroki pulled him down, and Izuku felt the fire hiss as ice rose to counteract it.

"Bakugou!"

Izuku pulled free from Todoroki's grasp. A dark portal had formed from nowhere, and suddenly _there was Kacchan._

Their eyes met.

"Bakugou!"

He looked like he had the first day. The darkness around him, swallowing him, so close to the end.

"Akatani," Kacchan said around the hands gripping him. "Akatani, don't—"

He choked on nothing, sinking into the portal, and Izuku screamed as Compress tugged him deeper in. Dabi waited, guarding, and his shock-blue eyes locked on Izuku's face.

Kacchan disappeared from sight.

"Are you going to come quietly?" Dabi smiled, the stitches on his face stretching. "Or am I going to have to make you… Midoriya?"

"Akatani, don't!"

The portal was closing. Izuku stared into its depths and knew, for once, what was waiting for him on the other side.

Dabi held out a hand.

"You're with us now," Dabi said, and it was a promise as well as a threat.

"Akatani, what are you _doing?_ " Todoroki caught up, reaching out. His eyes were wide in fear, and that was why it hurt when Izuku activated One for All and sent Todoroki sprawling on the ground. Dabi sent a wall of blue fire racing between them, and the only thing Izuku saw for a moment was the betrayal on Todoroki's face.

"I'm sorry, Todoroki," Izuku said, "Tell Eraserhead— tell All Might…"

The blue light was cold on Todoroki's face. Izuku stumbled a step back as a hand gripped his shoulder and wrenched him away from the sight.

"Time for you to stop pretending you're a hero," Dabi said in Izuku's ear, and Izuku closed his eyes. The portal was waiting for them.

For him.

"...Kacchan," Izuku whispered. He would do anything for Kacchan. He had already.

Dabi's other hand was still outstretched. Izuku took it. Todoroki shouted his name, but _Akatani_ had never been the real one. The portal shivered when Izuku stepped into it willingly.

The darkness consumed him. As the world fell apart and reformed around him, the only thing Izuku could think was that he would follow Kacchan, as he always had.


	37. Chapter 37

**Flare Signal** _  
interlude iv_

* * *

Shouta didn't feel like a hero.

He didn't feel like a hero when the kid Kouta cried into his shirt, whispering apologies that Midoriya couldn't hear. He didn't feel like a hero when student after student was carried and dragged back to safety, and the number of those injured rose. He didn't feel like a hero as the forest burned, or as the teachers called role, again and again.

With every moment that passed, Shouta felt more and more of a failure.

But there was no time to feel like a failure. No time to worry about himself—instead Shouta wrapped wounds, murmured soft comforts to crying students, and kept himself as a steady anchoring force as the cruel world sank its teeth into his kids.

He kept counting heads. Shouta hated it. Shouta hated this more than he'd ever hated anything in his life. Counting, counting, running through the list of names in his head of all the students in Class 1-A and coming short. Each missing name was a kid, a future hero, a family member. Each missing name was a disappearing shadow, an unknown. Each missing name could be one of the dead, lying in the leaves, blood marring their faces.

Shouta was tending to Yaoyorozu when he heard the shouting. Iida's voice, panicked and loud. The class president left his station, and a murmur rose from the crowd in the lodge as he barreled out towards the trees.

He pressed a heavy hand to Yaoyorozu's shoulder and felt his heart drop in him like a stone. Across the way Vlad met his gaze, and Shouta followed.

"Uraraka!"

Shouta, armed with bandages, raced forward to take his student from Aoyama's arms. He scanned the group. Matched the names to the list in his mind—good, good, there was Tsuyu, and Tokoyami. Uraraka cried when she was shifted into Shouta's grasp, but she was alive and breathing. Shoji had his arm wrapped around Todoroki, head down and hair over his eyes.

But alive. Alive and here.

Shouta went through the list again. Uraraka buried her face in Shouta's chest with a whimper, and Shouta assessed her injuries as Iida flitted over the group.

"Where's Bakugou?" Shouta demanded, looking from face to face. The villains had wanted Bakugou. "And— Akatani."

Tokoyami and Shoji dropped their gazes. Tsuyu croaked wordlessly. Iida pushed up his glasses, but he didn't seem to know what to say. And Todoroki, usually so quiet and calm, dropped his shoulders and sank deeper into himself.

"Guys?" Iida asked, when no one said anything.

Uraraka's fingers dug into Shouta's shoulder. A sinking feeling overtook him, and Shouta's knees almost gave out from under him.

"Come on," Shouta said, "anyone else injured?"

The responses were varied. The journey back to the lodge, though short, was slow. As they limped in, Shouta saw a wave of students look up. Relief swept through the crowd.

"Sensei," Uraraka whispered, and when he went to set her down she held on. Her voice was so quiet he had to strain to hear it. "Sensei… they're gone."

"Uraraka—"

"They're gone," she croaked, and when he went to lift her face towards him she tucked it back into his shirt. "I'm sorry I- I couldn't… A-Akatani and Bakugou—"

Shouta went rigid.

 _Keep going,_ a small part of him said, so Shouta kept going. He wrapped Uraraka's injuries as best he could and told Iida to stay with her. He found a spare blanket to put around Tokoyami, who looked like he was going to pass out. Shouta kept going.

It was when Shouta reached Todoroki that he stopped. Todoroki had found an empty spot by the wall and now sat. Shouta could see his hands, fingers flicking in and out again.

"Todoroki," Shouta said, crouching down. He eased a hand into Todoroki's sight and then rested it gently on Todoroki's knee.

"Aizawa-sensei," Todoroki whispered back, but his voice cracked. Shouta squeezed his knee. "I… I—"

Todoroki sank forward. A pale hand slipped up and over his mouth, but a small noise left him. When he cried it was nearly silent like he didn't want anybody to hear.

It was the first time Shouta had seen him cry.

There was nothing Shouta could say to help him, so he stayed instead, kept his hand there. Todoroki shuddered, shoulders jerking, but eventually the crying subsided into breathy gasps.

"It's alright, Torodoki," Shouta said, because it was the only thing he could offer—broken promises.

When he thought Todoroki would be okay enough, Shouta stood. He felt his bones creak in him like the floorboards of an old house, and Todoroki remained huddled on the doorstep. Kirishima shuffled over, unusually somber, and sat down next to Todoroki. He nodded at Shouta, and Shouta tried to smile back.

When Shouta finally remembered how to breathe, he walked the length of the room to the other teachers.

"Can you watch over them for me?"

Vlad nodded. Tiger rubbed a hand over his face, tired now that everyone had been taken care of; nearby Mandalay was holding Kouta. They were keeping a wary eye on Pixie-bob and Ragdoll, retrieved from the forest unconscious.

"I'll watch over the kids," Vlad rumbled, and Shouta nodded his thanks. A little bit of the burden eased.

But—

There was still so much… still so much to do.

Shouta had long prided himself on being a good hero. It meant gritting your teeth against the pain. It meant being willing to do the tough things, even when they hurt.

Well, Shouta didn't feel like a hero, and this one would hurt.

"I need to tell All Might."

He wanted to call Hizashi, or maybe Nedzu. He wanted Hizashi with him—his stupid best friend, the one he'd grown up with and spent long nights talking about odd dreams and different futures. Hizashi, who could talk loud enough to chase the thoughts from Shouta's head.

Not now.

It was All Might who needed to hear it first. The authorities were already contacted, support on their way, but… it was still All Might who needed to know what had happened. Shouta _had_ to tell him, so All Might could hear it from someone he trusted instead of rumors on the news.

Tiger frowned in confusion. "...All Might?"

Shouta turned on his heel and headed somewhere quiet. Behind him Vlad began to speak in low, lilting tones. Shouta didn't need to hear it.

Outside it was finally quiet. Smoke was still drifting above the trees. The deep blue of nighttime glittered innocently.

His phone rang. Once. Twice.

" _Hello?"_

"It's me."

" _Aizawa. Is there a problem? You said you would only call if there was a problem—"_

Shouta shut his eyes. "Toshinori, listen to me."

On the other end, All Might went quiet. Shouta could hear him breathing, waiting. He never called All Might _Toshinori,_ though Midoriya had.

"There's been a villain attack."

" _The League? No… no…"_

Shouta kept his report brief and short. Kept his voice steady even as All Might's dipped into fear and concern.

"That's— I'm not done," Shouta murmured, "I wish I was, but I'm not."

There was no reply for a while. Then, " _It gets worse?"_

"I'm sorry, All Might."

" _Aizawa, tell me."_

Shouta took a deep breath. "I think you should sit down, Toshinori."

" _What? Aizawa, what happened—"_

"Two students were kidnapped." When All Might went silent Shouta forged forward even though he felt like the air was burning in his lungs. "The first was Bakugou. The second was— Akatani."

"All Might?" Nothing. "All Might?"

The line went dead. Shouta dropped his head, then dialed a different number. This one picked up almost immediately.

" _Hello?"_

"Detective," Shouta said, and there was a weight in his voice that had never been there before when he spoke.

" _I've been informed of… what happened,"_ Tsukauchi told him, voice tight on the other end.

"Good," Shouta said, though there was nothing good about it at all. "I need you figuring out where the hell the League is, and I need to talk with you… tomorrow."

He lowered his voice though there was no one around to listen. "And I just called All Might. I'm not… I think he could probably use a friend."

Tsukauchi cleared his throat. " _Thank you—let me know when you're available. I know you'll be busy. I'll talk to All Might."_

"Right," Shouta said, and surprised himself at how rough his voice was. "Right. Thank you."

" _I know there's a lot to take care of,"_ Tsukauchi told him, " _but take care of yourself as well."_

"Not until they're back safe," Shouta said.

The call ended.

Shouta could feel the energy sapping from him. His body ached, tired, but Shouta forced himself to keep moving. Nedzu had already been briefed on the situation; every few minutes Shouta would get an update on how things were going on the other end.

He traded places with Vlad and Tiger as the police and reinforcements arrived, standing as guard over the students. Some had fallen asleep, and some had never woken up from the sleeping gas. But most of them were awake, quiet and terrified faces shining in the moonlight. Hands splayed out next to each other. They held on.

The next few hours passed in a blur. The injured students were carted away to be treated professionally. Helicopters wavered overhead. The sound of sirens drilled into Shouta's head; he talked to a million police officers, answered phone calls, repeated what little he knew again and again until the words felt dry.

When it was all over the rest of the students boarded buses escorted from the forest. Shouta hesitated over going or staying, where everyone was still cleaning up, but Vlad shoved him in the direction of the buses.

Shouta made sure every single student made it home before he struck out again. He sent a few half-hearted texts to Hizashi in return of the dozen or so missed calls and stumbled down the street to U.A.

Nedzu was waiting for him. He looked like he always did—clean-pressed, calm, presentable. Shouta felt the world spin as they stepped into the clean, empty halls, but Nedzu put a guiding paw on Shouta's arm and steered him to an office.

But they didn't talk about— any of it. Nedzu had always been unpredictable, but Shouta had expected him to dive into planning, or maybe even to fire him on the spot.

What Nedzu did instead was push a steaming cup of tea across the table and tell him to sleep.

"There's too much to do," Shouta protested weakly. His hands had been steady before but now they shook. He couldn't hold the tea cup.

"And you'll need a clear head to do it," Nedzu said, his voice holding no room for argument. "There's time to plan—"

"We're already out of time," Shouta argued. He stood up, and the tea sloshed in the cup. "I need to be _out there_ —"

"That is enough," Nedzu snapped, and the look in his eyes made Shouta sink back down onto the couch. His face softened. "There are others, Aizawa. We will work on it—we've already been working on it—and when you can, you'll join us. That is not an invitation to argue."

Shouta blinked. His eyes felt crusted.

"Go home," Nedzu said firmly.

"Yes, sir."

He was tired. It had crept up on him, waiting, and now the tiredness snagged the back of his jacket. He stumbled blearily out of U.A., though when he looked back the office lights were still on. And though Shouta felt worse for it he went home.

Hizashi had let himself in by the time Shouta got there. He saw Shouta walk through the door and leapt up from his spot on the couch.

"Shouta—"

"I don't want to hear it," Shouta snapped. Hizashi deflated, only a little, but it was enough for Shouta to feel bad. "Sorry. It's been…"

"A rough night," Hizashi finished.

Shouta stood in the doorway and lifted his hands to his face, pressing his fingers to his eyes. He felt the scar he'd gotten from USJ, and a vision flashed behind his eyelids of the Nomu, of Shigaraki. That crooked hand.

Bakugou and Midoriya were _with_ them. Bakugou and Midoriya—

God. _God._

He'd tried not to think about it. Shouta had spent the past few hours pointedly not-thinking about it. He'd taken care of the kids who'd come back. He'd directed police through the forest, checked in with the other pros. He'd been _doing_ so he wouldn't be _thinking_ , but now all the things to do had been taken from him and set aside on the nightstand.

Shouta went through the motions. He took a shower, rubbing the grime off of himself. He changed into something looser, then shuffled to bed and collapsed into it. The mattress sank under his weight, a welcoming feeling.

Lights off. Darkness swept through the room. In the distance he could hear Hizashi, being awfully loud as he took the couch for the night. They hadn't spoken since Shouta walked in, but he appreciated Hizashi just— being here. Loneliness made everything a lot harder.

Even as loud snoring began to sound down the hallway, Shouta laid in the dark awake. He couldn't stop thinking now he had the chance to. Bakugou and Midoriya. Bakugou and Midoriya were with them.

They were— they were no older than fifteen. When Shouta was fifteen he and Hizashi used to go to the arcade after school and play games until the lights were too much. When Shouta was fifteen he'd thrown himself into homework in the hopes of becoming a hero. When Shouta was fifteen the bad kind of stuff that happened was that he'd failed to get into the hero course the first time the opportunity had been given to him. The bad kind of stuff that happened was that he missed a night's worth of precious sleep.

Not this.

When Shouta was fifteen, he'd only ever seen villains on television. Images of All Might defeating villain after villain, on fake drama shows, in news reports or documentaries.

His teachers had never failed him. They'd been kind and well-spoken. They'd kept the students (mostly) safe.

No attacks on campus. No villains stealing away kids.

When he'd decided on teaching, Shouta had gone to visit Akiba to tell him of the news. Akiba-sensei's eyes had crinkled in delight. _You'll be a good teacher._

It was the thought of failing the teacher Shouta had strived to be like that made his chest crack. Shouta didn't cry—he'd never been much of one. But he did press his face into his pillow until he forgot to breathe and tried not to think about Bakugou and Midoriya.

Neither were helpless. Neither were alone. But Shouta thought about them being far from reach and found the night irreversible. Shouta had made many mistakes, but this was one he could never forgive himself for.

He slept poorly, and only for a few hours. Hizashi was up when Shouta clambered out of bed, though, sometime in the early morning before the new day had rolled in.

"Coffee?"

Shouta grunted. Hizashi handed him a mug.

"Teachers' meeting later," Hizashi informed him, sliding into a seat at the small kitchen table. "Nedzu's running through public statements and what we'll do as U.A. faculty."

Another thing to remember. Another thing to do.

"I need to see Tsukauchi," Shouta responded. When Hizashi's face remained blank, Shouta elaborated. "The detective? All Might's friend."

"Ooh," Hizashi said. He played with the handle of the mug. "Ah, yeah, he works on the League, huh."

"That's the one."

"I'll fill you in, then," Hizashi said decisively, nodding to himself. "It'll just be like our high school days!"

"You copied my notes."

"I totally took my own notes."

Shouta narrowed his eyes. "I don't have time for this. But for the record, you copied my notes and then completely flunked the test. It's a wonder you got through at all."

"I have brain cells," Hizashi muttered, and he flashed Shouta a grin. "It's 'cause I learned how to study."

"You have brain cells," Shouta repeated, rolling his eyes. Hizashi grumbled something as Shouta poured his second cup of coffee and downed it. "Whatever. I'll contact Tsukauchi and see when he's available. After that we need to work on—"

"—getting our kids back." Hizashi lifted his eyes from his mug, and his gaze was sincere. "I know, Shouta."

"God, Hizashi."

He'd slept but he still felt tired. He'd washed but he still felt dirty. He could do everything but get his failures out of his head.

"I'm sorry I wasn't there."

"It wasn't your fault, it was mine."

"It wasn't yours, either," Hizashi said. Shouta turned and filled another half-cup of coffee so Hizashi wouldn't look at his face. "I know you're listening to me. You did good out there. You did the best you could."

"And we're still missing two students." Shouta slammed the coffee pot down. "And there are students in the hospital badly injured, and all the _rest_ of the students are terrified and shaken out of their damn minds, so believe me when I say it's my fault."

"Shouta," Hizashi said. He stood, circling around the table so they could look at each other. He grabbed Shouta's sleeve but didn't hug him. "Look at me. You did everything you could."

"It wasn't enough."

"It was enough," Hizashi pressed, "look at how many of your students came back. Look at how well you prepared them to defend themselves. This never should have happened, but… everyone's going to come back safe because I know you'll make it happen."

Hizashi had a way of pinning Shouta right where his heart was.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," Shouta said, "we're going to find them."

"We're going to find them," Hizashi repeated. He clapped Shouta's shoulder. "I'll head out, then. There's work to do."

"Thanks for," Shouta started, but Hizashi waved a hand. He slung his jacket over his shoulder.

"I know you, Eraserhead," Hizashi called back before he left, "I know you."

It was six in the morning when Detective Tsukauchi texted Shouta back. It was going to be another long day, Shouta thought, squinting at his too-bright phone screen. Or maybe the last day had never ended; it felt like Shouta had blinked, only a few seconds since he'd smelled the smoke of forest fires. It was still clinging to his jacket.

Six was a little earlier than Shouta expected, but he figured few police or heroes had slept much after the incident was reported on high alert. There would be a few hours before the public was informed, giving them less time to prepare for panic, much less take stock of the situation and plan for what was next.

"It's good to see you," Tsukauchi said when Shouta arrived. He shook Shouta's hand and showed him in. There were a few other policemen hard at work; they passed a briefing room and saw a meeting.

"All Might's here?"

Tsukauchi nodded, and they paused to let a few people pass. "He insisted. You couldn't stop him if you tried. We've been hard at work pouring over files trying to pinpoint the location of the League."

"How's progress?"

Tsukauchi winced.

"Not… good," he admitted, scratching his head. "I wish I had better news for you, Aizawa, but the truth is that we just don't have a lot of information."

Tsukauchi was right. Shouta wanted better information, but they would have to start from scraps if they had to. Luck had never been Shouta's best friend, and maybe that was why his life sucked so much.

They stopped outside a row of cubicles, and Tsukauchi gestured towards the right one. Shouta could just make out the top of All Might's head, though it looked like he was in his civilian form.

Tsukauchi slowed down and lowered his voice. "He's— taking it hard."

Shouta swallowed. "I imagine."

Shouta wasn't close to Midoriya the same way All Might was. They didn't share the same relationship. That was perfectly fine with him. All Might looked at Midoriya like he was a brilliant star around which he could orbit; All Might looked at Midoriya like he was his own son.

Before internships, when All Might and Midoriya had gotten into their argument, Shouta watched him withdraw. The look in his eyes… Shouta had never seen that before from the number one hero. He pictured the same look again.

Tsukauchi cleared his throat, and they rounded the corner.

All Might was sitting in a chair that was a little too small for him. On the table next to him was an open file, papers and photographs scattered, but he wasn't looking at it. His tall, skeletal form was hunched over; Shouta spotted his hands gripping his knees as he stared at a point on the floor. The light of sunrise fell over him, partially blocked by the cubicle and coloring his edges with soft yellow light. Yet the cool fluorescent lighting ruined the effect, and the closer Shouta drew the more he could see the way All Might was shaking.

"Toshi," Tsukauchi said in a voice that was entirely too gentle. Shouta suddenly was struck with the feeling of intrusion, like he was seeing something he shouldn't.

All Might jerked his head up. Shouta nodded at him, pretending he didn't see the red around his eyes.

"Ah," he said slowly, "Naomasa, Aizawa."

"Hey, big guy," Shouta said. Tsukauchi stripped off his coat, and Shouta copied the action. When he did, something crinkled from the inside of Shouta's jacket. Paper.

He didn't remember what he'd put there until he did.

The letter.

Tsukauchi was saying something, but Shouta ignored him, pulling the letter out from his inside jacket pocket. He'd meant to put it somewhere safe the day before and had decided instead to keep it on his person—protected and well-kept. He remembered he'd spent the day touching his jacket with careful fingers, feeling the brush of paper against his fingertips, making sure the letter was still there.

"Toshinori," Shouta said. He took the letter out. "This… this is for you."

All Might lifted his eyes to Shouta's face. He frowned. "A letter?"

Shouta almost smiled when he remembered Midoriya, but it faded into a grimace.

"A failsafe," he echoed, handing it over. All Might took it with wary hands, fingers running the length of the envelope. Shouta felt that same strange feeling of _intrusion_ again when All Might flipped the letter over and saw his name written there in Midoriya's handwriting. All Might traced the characters, eyes sad, and Shouta looked away for a moment. He couldn't watch.

"Do you… know what's in it?"

Shouta looked back and shook his head. "He didn't say. Just that it was a letter for you." He cleared his throat. "And that—he wanted me to keep it just in case something… happened."

All Might blinked, long and slow. He held the letter up to the light; Shouta wondered what he could see through the paper.

Tsukauchi caught his gaze and jerked his head to the side. Shouta nodded, and they quietly stepped away into a corner where no one else was around.

"I think he'll need a moment," Tsukauchi said. Shouta massaged his chest and nodded solemnly. He wasn't sure what he would do if he saw All Might cry.

"Right."

"You said you wanted to talk to me before," Tsukauchi said, "was that just about the League, or—"

"Sort of," Shouta said. There was something mildly terrifying about saying the words, even though Shouta knew Tsukauchi was trustworthy. It made him wonder how it must have felt for Midoriya.

He didn't know how to phrase the words, but he had to start somewhere.

"Before— uh…" Shouta took a deep breath and tried again. "I think we both know who Mirage is now."

Tsukauchi's eyes flashed with surprise. "You… know."

"He told me," Shouta said, "and when I asked him if he'd told anyone else he mentioned your name. I don't think All Might knows, though."

Tsukauchi shook his head. He rubbed a hand over his face.

"No, he doesn't," he confirmed, "I believe Akatani—let's use that name for now, please—planned to tell him once the training camp was over. After that, he would've come with me for a while until we worked the situation out."

"But he never made it back."

"But he never made it back," Tsukauchi agreed, and the two men shared a quiet and solemn moment.

"I… don't know where to go from here," Shouta confessed, and once the weakness was out there it could not be taken back. "I'll defer to you. I don't know how we're going to handle Chimera. I don't know what we're supposed to do now that he's with the League."

"All of that is of lesser priority," Tsukauchi said, "I think the focus needs to be on getting the boys back first. The rest we can deal with. I don't know what Chimera's up to, but we do need to keep an eye on any activity that occurs. But—get them back first."

He touched Shouta's shoulder. "I'm glad he's told someone else, though. He needs people he can rely on."

Shouta nodded. He'd been granted a trust that needed careful and constant guarding.

"We'll get them back," Tsukauchi said, smiling. "In case no one has told you that yet."

"You're very sure of yourself," Shouta replied, though he knew there was no other option.

"I tell truths," Tsukauchi said simply. He inclined his head towards the cubicles, and they walked back together.

The letter was gone from sight by the time Shouta and Tsukauchi returned. It had only been a few minutes of conversation at most, but it had been a long enough time for All Might to read it.

Shouta wondered briefly what was in the letter. Midoriya had stayed tight-lipped about it; he hadn't breathed a word to Shouta about its contents. He assumed the letter was maybe something similar to the conversation they'd had in the dark, Midoriya whispering secret after secret out into the open. Maybe it was something else entirely. He didn't think he would ever know.

They spent the next couple hours poring over all the information they had on the League. Marking potential locations. Shouta pointed out the warehouse he'd raided for Chimera, but it didn't help much. They looked at a few potential places, but there were so many possibilities and so few leads that it made Shouta's head hurt.

Two hours deep into frustrated discussion, Tameka poked his head over the neighboring cubicle and told them none-too-gently to get themselves donuts from the breakroom and to take a walk. Shouta obliged. He found a coffeepot and hoarded his third-and-a-half cup of coffee that day while Tsukauchi enjoyed a sugar-glazed donut.

"I don't think we're getting anywhere," Tsukauchi said, and the three men sighed. The sight must have been sad, the three of them gathered around a little table with donuts and coffee talking about unhappy news. "We're going to need a different approach."

"We just need more information," All Might said. He glanced at Tsukauchi, and something passed between them that Shouta just didn't get. "I'll—I don't know why I didn't think of this before, but I'll get in contact with Gran Torino."

The hero Midoriya had taken an internship with. One of Shouta's 1-A predecessors, if he remembered correctly. Somehow all of these things were connected, but Shouta couldn't draw the lines between the different dots.

"I'll see who I can talk to," Shouta said. He closed his eyes. "I think I need to work on press for U.A. And I need to talk to parents—"

"One thing at a time," Tsukauchi reminded him. "But I think we're done here for the day. I'll keep working here—you two should get moving."

Shouta took a deep breath. Tried, because trying was all Shouta had left.

A few people waved as Shouta and All Might left the police station. The sun had begun its climb into the sky, and together Shouta and All Might headed to their next destination.

"There's a lot to do," All Might said as they climbed the front steps of the hospital.

"We can handle it," Shouta said automatically. It was strange how easy it was to reassure other people and not yourself.

They checked into the lobby and made the rounds of the row of hospital rooms. A girl in black stood outside nearby, but other than that it was empty. It was still early for regular visiting hours, but Shouta slipped into each room and looked at all the sleeping, bandaged faces. Most were still asleep, and the ones that had been hit by the sleeping gas were still under its effects.

Uraraka was awake, though. She blinked blearily at him when Shouta went to stand by her bed, and then she slid a pale hand out from under the sheets. Shouta took it. She needed it.

"Did you find anything," she whispered.

Shouta shook his head. He didn't sugar-coat it. "No. We're still working on it."

Uraraka breathed out a sigh, like it was the answer she'd expected but definitely not the one she wanted to hear.

"I want them back," she said.

"You'll see them again," Shouta promised, "soon."

She nodded, curled up a little tighter, and let go of his hand. He patted her shoulder for a moment and when she finally turned, Shouta left. His heart was heavy.

All Might sighed when Shouta stepped back out. He wished they had more information, but they were coming up blank.

"Did you read it?" Shouta finally asked, the two walking together.

"Hm?" All Might said.

"The letter."

"I—"

Shouta put a hand on All Might's arm.

The girl in black was waiting in the hall outside. On first glance, Shouta didn't even notice her, but heroes never looked at something just once.

Shouta recognized her. He'd seen her before: on a street corner, by the gates of U.A., outside the hospital. She was wearing plain black clothes, a loose black cardigan over a grey shirt and tight pants with a silver belt. Her hair was chopped short at the shoulders and dyed a grey color. She was holding her phone loosely, tapping away, the light of it reflected in her glasses.

"She's been following us," Shouta murmured to All Might. "Walk with me."

"Dangerous?"

"Not sure," he confessed.

All Might smiled. "Let's go see what she wants, yes?"

The girl had tensed the moment they'd stepped out. To the untrained eye, she seemed casual, relaxed. She was careful but not quite enough to hide the way her shoulders shifted, bunching up.

She shifted when they approached and looked up to meet Shouta's eyes.

"You've been following us."

She inclined her head in acknowledgement and pushed off the wall, tucking her phone into her pocket.

"So?"

"We were hoping you could tell us."

The girl pursed her lips. She glanced around; down the hall, a nurse was going in and out of one of the rooms, but it was relatively empty.

"You're looking for, ah, Mikumi. I'm… a friend."

"Ah," All Might said, bowing. "He's mentioned you. Silver, wasn't it?"

Silver nodded.

"If you're concerned about young Akatani, there's no need to worry." All Might flashed Silver a bright smile that Shouta used to find terribly fake. "I promise we are doing-"

Silver's eyes flashed. "I'm not here to be concerned."

Shouta felt his hair stand on end. He balanced himself, tightening his core and ready to face whatever Silver could unleash.

"Ah," All Might said, "then perhaps we could… help you?"

Silver crossed her arms, scoffing, and then flashed them a grin that made Shouta uneasy.

"Other way around."

Shouta called Tsukauchi as the world took in a breath and let it out again. In minutes things went from silent to a quiet buzzing that was only going to build.

The pieces began to slot into place, and for the first time since Bakugou and Midoriya had been taken Shouta saw a spark of hope.

Shouta didn't feel like a hero, but he'd be damned if he wasn't going to be one.


	38. Chapter 38

**Flare Signal** _  
chapter thirty-eight_

* * *

Izuku didn't get a chance to breathe.

Pain splintered his vision into two. He felt nails dig into his arms before they were wrenched backward. Izuku's knees gave out. Skin scraped against cold floor, but the sensation was lost to the rush of sound, like the world had been unmuted.

Someone shouted his name. Izuku watched the floor dip as he staggered forward, then realized he recognized the voice. It hurt, but Izuku forced his head up and caught Kacchan's gaze, wide and terrified.

It was the only second they had.

Someone tore him away, and the fight left Izuku all in a moment. He was dragged back, seeing only a flash of dull metal before everything disappeared from view. The world spun. Cold clamped around his wrist, and Izuku barely registered a spark of pain before a slamming sound echoed. When he regained his senses, he was alone.

Izuku sat on the floor and felt his body pulse with pain. He touched a hand to his head but felt nothing there, then saw a trickle of blood run down his arm where a cuff had been locked.

 _Breathe._

Izuku did. He put his hand to his chest and felt it expand, gradually more and more as his breathing evened.

He looked around where he'd been put and saw a plain, dark room. Cold, tiled floor. Blank, empty walls. There was only the brief outline of a door Izuku had been shoved through, though Izuku saw no locks to pick. There weren't any windows, either.

Okay. That was one thing down. Izuku reminded himself to breathe as he ran over what to do next.

In the dim light, it was hard to see his own injuries, but Izuku ran careful fingers along his leg, probing where it hurt. It didn't seem broken, but Izuku tore off a piece of shirt to wrap around his ankle in a meager attempt at first aid. It seemed, thankfully, to be the worst of the pain. He found a few other scrapes and places that would bruise, but nothing terrible.

Good. Good. It meant Izuku could still fight.

He stood carefully, testing his weight and limping over to the door, pressing his palm against the frame to see if there were any weaknesses. There weren't. The League, it seemed, had their own plans and weren't interested in Izuku ruining them.

"Hello?"

His voice was a little too loud for the silence, a little too shaky to be without fear.

"Shigaraki," Izuku called, and hated how the name in his mouth was the one he had to rely on. "What game are you playing?"

 _Where is your courage now?_

"Forgot to pack it," Izuku grumbled to himself. He backed away from the door, pacing the length of the room before curling away in a corner far from the door.

Alone and without distraction, the only company Izuku had was his own thoughts. His first was of Kacchan. The last Izuku had seen of him was his gaze—red eyes sharp with fear.

He didn't understand what the League wanted. It didn't make sense. Shigaraki had never once mentioned Kacchan, at least not to Izuku's face, nor did he have any particular interest in U.A. students. Kacchan didn't know any more information than Izuku did.

And Kacchan was strong. He didn't like giving up, and he didn't like losing. He'd blow this entire place to smithereens before even considering cooperating, and the thought of Kacchan was briefly comforting.

The only thing that Izuku could think of was a bitter bet for revenge against Izuku after Chimera had cut ties and Izuku dropped off the face of the planet. Even so, none of it made any more sense than before.

There was a distant sound from beyond the door, and Izuku's heart hammered as he shot to his feet. He shifted his weight onto his uninjured leg, pulling himself up.

No one came. The sound faded as it had come, but Izuku stayed for a while longer until he was sure nothing was happening. He sank back onto the ground trembling.

No one came, but the exhaustion did. He hadn't slept well recently, and the echoes of training and the villain fight reverberated through his body. Izuku knew if any of the League came for him that he wouldn't be able to fight back.

He leaned back against the wall thought it was uncomfortable and lulled himself into a fitful, uneasy sleep. Every now and then Izuku would jerk awake thinking someone was coming, but the feeling would pass and he'd return to rest. He dreamed, but like in reality nothing made sense. Most of it was a myriad of colors, bursts of crackling light and the muffled sound of a voice saying words Izuku couldn't make out.

When Izuku woke up for the last time, he felt both better and worse. Aching had settled into his body; he rolled his shoulders and tried to stretch to relieve the feeling. What Izuku didn't like the most was that he had no way of knowing what time it was. With no window, there was no daylight to judge how much of the night had crept past him, and Izuku had no watch.

Izuku thought it must have been a few hours at least. His body told him it should be early morning, earlier than Izuku normally woke, though he wasn't going back to sleep. Izuku eyed the door again, but it didn't seem like anyone was here.

He stayed huddled in the corner thinking. After a bit of rest Izuku felt his head clearing, but the situation was troubling. He was helpless. There seemed to be no way out. Now more than ever Izuku stayed under the League's thumb.

Izuku's eyes burned. He swiped at them angrily, but he'd always been a crier.

He tore off a shoe and threw it as hard as he could at the door. It bounced off harmlessly, but the roiling anger refused to leave him. He was up in a flash, pounding at the walls.

"Shigaraki!" Izuku yelled, "Shigaraki, you coward!"

When there was no response Izuku beat a fist against the rattling door again.

"Come on!" he shouted, "come _on!_ "

No one came.

He screamed wordlessly in frustration and paced the length of small cell until the anger had reduced to a low simmer. They'd taken him only to lock him away. No villains. No heroes. Just Izuku.

Just stupid, useless—

He wished sorely that Kacchan was here next to him in this dreary cell of a room. Now that Kacchan was gone Izuku found a million regrets building up in him. He wished he had told Eraserhead sooner, told Tsukauchi sooner, had any hint of warning that this would happen. He wished he'd gotten to see Toshinori again, hear his voice even just over the phone, apologized. A letter wasn't enough.

He wished he had told Kacchan.

Izuku pressed his head to the wall and wondered if Kacchan was on the other side. Thought about the day Izuku had chased after him, the two of them sitting on the roof, the first time Izuku thought he was really seeing Kacchan again—the friend he knew. Izuku wanted to tell him then just as badly as he did now, but he'd missed his chance.

And Toshinori—

He had to know by now, what Izuku had done. The mistakes he'd made. That Izuku had clung selfishly to the opportunity, the chance to become a hero so close that Izuku had ignored all the warning signs.

All Might. Eraserhead. Detective Tsukauchi.

Were they searching for him? Izuku couldn't be sure. What if they gave up? What if they never came?

Izuku slid his fingers into his hair. He wanted them all so badly. He would have given anything in that moment just to see— just to see someone other than himself. Any of his teachers, any of his friends, any of his classmates. He wanted to hear Uraraka's bright laugh again, or find a determined smile on Iida's face, or share a few words with Todoroki. He wanted to be sitting amongst the leaves with Eraserhead again. He wanted to share a cup of tea with Detective Tsukauchi. More than anything Izuku wanted Toshinori the way he had always seen him, haloed in light, smiling, his voice so kind and reassuring when he told Izuku, _I am here._

Muffled footsteps sounded. Izuku curled his hands into fists but made no other move; he had to stay calm. He had to play along until he knew what they'd done with Kacchan, what they were planning. If Kacchan was hurt because of Izuku he would never forgive himself.

The door opened.

"Come on," someone snapped, and Izuku blinked up at Dabi. A feeling Izuku pinpointed as relief slid between his ribs as the crushing loneliness receded slightly.

The villain had his arms crossed over his chest; he didn't look particularly patient, so Izuku swallowed back his questions and wordlessly followed. Dabi grabbed his arm hard enough to hurt and pulled Izuku down the hallway.

"Where—"

"Shut up," Dabi tossed out, but Izuku didn't think he was really angry, only impatient. "You're meeting with someone."

Izuku's heart leapt in his throat. "Sh… Shigaraki?"

Dabi barked out a laugh. "Nah, boss hates your guts."

Izuku grumbled under his breath. "Well, the feeling's mutual."

Dabi shrugged. His grip on Izuku relaxed just slightly, though Izuku didn't understand why if he'd just slung an insult at Shigaraki.

"He gets the job done," Dabi said, and Izuku scoffed but shut his mouth after that. He was marched through twisting hallways then shoved into a different room, the door shutting behind him.

"Ah, if it isn't Midoriya."

That voice was so familiar.

Izuku stared at the floor. He didn't want to look up. He didn't want to place the voice, the face.

"Hello, my dear boy," the voice came again, and Izuku screwed his eyes shut. He counted to three before opening them again and looked up into a weathered face. Crow's feet around the eyes, mostly obscured by a set of goggles that were pushed up over a bald head by wrinkled fingers a moment later.

They'd met, before. They'd met quite a few times in Izuku's childhood, and had met again not that long ago though Izuku's head spun trying to remember. He was aware his breathing sounded strange, but he couldn't bring himself to focus on anything but the man in front of him.

"Dr. Tsubasa."

Izuku's voice was cold to his own ears, but there was no shakiness in it. Izuku thought he was supposed to feel angry but could only feel numb.

"Sorry about the mess," Dr. Tsubasa chuckled. He waved a hand at the room around him, not unlike the little place Izuku had visited as a kid. "Come on, now, Midoriya."

"Why am I here?"

Dr. Tsubasa clicked his tongue. "I've been ordered to take care of you."

The words were more chilling than they were supposed to. Still Izuku followed him, sitting gingerly on the edge of a cot. Dr. Tsubasa looked over his injuries, bandaging them again with proper materials. Then he took Izuku's wrist and uncuffed him.

"Shigaraki insisted," Dr. Tsubasa sighed, putting the cuff to the side. "Nothing but a precaution. He doesn't trust you, see."

"I hadn't noticed," Izuku said quietly. Dr. Tsubasa patted his hand, and Izuku looked at where the cuff had been and saw a cut there disappearing under a bandage. And there, he'd nearly forgotten, was Silver's bracelet.

"There you are."

Izuku swallowed. "Thanks."

"That's one matter taken care of," Dr. Tsubasa said, snapping gloves off his hands. " _He_ was displeased to know you were injured in the struggle. Well, onto the next bit now."

"He," Izuku repeated. "You're talking about All for One."

Dr. Tsubasa jerked, the movement violent. His eyes darted around.

"Of course, Midoriya," he said. "He wanted me to speak to you. He thought it might be nice for you to see a familiar face."

"Speak to me? About what?"

"All of this," Dr. Tsubasa explained, waving a hand. It didn't help. "You're so young. I must say, you've been a help this past while, but we were concerned you'd gotten a little lost being with the heroes. They've led you a bit astray, see—that's what they're prone to do. Spend a little time with them and you think they're good, or perhaps you believe you could belong with them. Be one of them."

Izuku's breath caught. He was hardly numb at all now. The things Dr. Tsubasa was saying—he'd thought them. He'd believed them.

And he'd— he'd trusted Dr. Tsubasa blindly. Izuku had _confided_ in him, had spilled out his fears when he thought he had nowhere to go.

Now Izuku felt like he was four again and Dr. Tsubasa was driving a knife into his heart. _Sometimes there are mistakes._ Like he was lying under the tree again, but this time the sunlight blinded him. _I believe you may be Quirkless._

"We met in the park," Izuku blurted.

Dr. Tsubasa tapped his fingers. He looked pleasantly surprised.

"Yes, yes. You said you had a problem."

"I—"

"Let's see… do you remember what I told you, Midoriya?"

Izuku forced the air from his lungs. How many times had he repeated those words to himself? How had he found solace in those words when they meant something entirely different, when it came from someone Izuku could no longer trust?

"Start from the roots."

Dr. Tsubasa's mustache twitched, but Izuku could tell he was smiling.

"That's right, that's right. Start from the roots."

Izuku tried to remember the day they'd met, but it was like someone was holding onto the memory. He remembered the smell of grass and the dappled sunlight and reassurance.

"You see, that's exactly how it is," Dr. Tsubasa whispered, and his eyes lit with passion. "These heroes, this society, that's all it is. We must start from the roots. We must uproot them, unplant the seeds, cut off the tree from its source. That's when things will change. That's when things will get better."

Izuku couldn't run. The only thing he could do was sit there, and stay still, and listen as Dr. Tsubasa took a scalpel to all the things Izuku thought he believed in.

Dr. Tsubasa put a hand on Izuku's knee. "Do you understand, Midoriya?"

Izuku choked.

"I think I understand."

Dr. Tsubasa's eyes crinkled as he broke out into a relieved smile. "Good. Good. I'm sure I'll be seeing you soon, my boy, we've got so much to discuss and so many matters to work on."

"And what— what are the plans?"

Dr. Tsubasa raised an eyebrow. "Unfortunately, I'm not allowed to say, not that I know much myself." He chuckled. "Don't worry too much. You have to trust All for One. It'll all be over soon."

"Over," Izuku murmured, and the word was melancholy to his ears.

The door opened. Dabi stepped in.

"Yes," Dr. Tsubasa said. He found a notebook and began to scribble in it as Izuku left. "Yes, it'll all be over soon."

Dabi didn't make conversation this time. He sent Izuku back to his cell and shut it without a word, even as Izuku turned back towards it to call after him.

"Wait—"

He was gone.

Izuku slumped back on the floor against the wall and hid his face in his hands. This entire time Dr. Tsubasa had helped All for One, had helped the villain cling to his empire, his underworld, the servant to an old god.

Who was next? Who else was Izuku wrong to trust?

He lifted his hand and saw the silver scorpion on his wrist. Silver? Had she given him away, one of the few people Izuku had told his plans to? He felt sick. He was scared the answer was yes even though the years told him no, but Izuku had made so many wrong choices before.

He was so lonely it hurt. He was so hurt the pain stripped him to the bone, the cold tearing at him. He had never been brave, had only ever been scared, but now this was something worse.

Izuku wanted a lot of things. He'd thought of his friends earlier, his teachers, the people who had found him in the past year and who had now lost him. Now Izuku just wanted Kacchan. He wanted his friend back. He wanted to reach out and take Kacchan's hand. He wanted Kacchan to tell him that someone was coming for them, because then Izuku would believe it.

He pressed a closed fist against the wall and tapped it weakly. Then again, stronger, until it hurt.

 _Are you there? Are you there? Are you there?_

There was no response.

Izuku let his hand fall and thought that it would all be over soon. He'd fallen right into Shigaraki's hands, had led himself right into the trap. He was alone.

No one came.


	39. Chapter 39

**Flare Signal** _  
chapter thirty-nine_

* * *

Hours passed.

It was hard to tell, really. For all Izuku knew it could have been days he spent alone, waiting and wondering.

When someone finally came for him, Izuku went quietly. His head was spinning with the _what ifs_ he couldn't stave off, even though he knew it was only making him feel worse. Maybe none of this would have happened if he'd told someone sooner. Maybe he and Kacchan would be safe now if Izuku was a little stronger, a little smarter, a little better. Maybe if Izuku had never met All Might under a bridge, maybe if he hadn't helped carry groceries, maybe if Izuku had never taken One for All.

His feet stopped. Izuku blinked into the darkness.

He was shoved forward, stumbling a few steps as a door shut behind him. His eyes adjusted to the low light, but before Izuku saw anything he heard the soft whirring of machinery. He saw the wiry frame of a bed and then the shape of a man on it, if he could be called that. Tubes drew outwards like arteries to a beating heart. Like the roots of a tree.

Izuku couldn't see the man's face. He didn't think he wanted to.

There were certain, unexplainable things in life. Sometimes you just _knew_. Bonestealer called it instinct, something that kept you alive. Mom would have called it intuition. It could be a deep-rooted ancestral memory, maybe, or ghosts pressing their hands to living skin and whispering secrets.

Whatever it was, Izuku felt it. That strange and terrifying sense of doom. The sort of knowledge, the sort of fear prey had when cornered by a predator. Something deep nestled in his bones and his lungs that was taking flight. There was no fight here.

Izuku couldn't see the man's face. He didn't need to. He knew.

A hand emerged from the web of machinery and magic.

"Hello, little dragon." Slow. Deep. Like sinking in water. "...Or shall I call you a phoenix now?"

The words sounded wrong. They sounded wrong.

Something snagged his mouth, hooked a response from his throat.

"What do you want from me?"

"Want from you, my boy?" Stop. Stop. Stop. All Might called him that. He didn't get to say that. "Is that what they've done to you? Made you think that all you are good for is something to be used. A toy, a tool, something temporary. You mistake me, Izuku. I do not want _from_ you. I want for you."

Want. _Want._ Izuku wanted to leave.

"You—"

"You've been led astray."

Izuku trembled. "They didn't make me go anywhere I didn't want to."

"Is that true?"

Izuku bit down on his lip. "Yes. Y- yes."

"I don't think you believe that."

Stop. Stop. It was like being snared. It was like metal teeth closing around his heart, trapping it. It was like Izuku was being saved from drowning with a lifeline shaped like a noose.

The hand beckoned. Like Izuku was being pulled by strings, he felt his body jerk forwards, drawing closer and closer to the bed. To the villain.

When Izuku's knees hit the metal frame, he clamped down on a yell. The mass of tubes and support shifted, unfurling, revealing, but there was no face.

All for One grasped Izuku's wrist. He couldn't pull away.

"Do you see me?" he rasped. His mouth formed words, but Izuku saw nothing else on that blank, scarred face. "Do you see what All Might made me become?"

A monster, Izuku thought. No—All Might didn't create monsters, but he defeated them. This was All for One's work.

"You were a villain before."

"Villain." All for One laughed. "Is that what you'd like to call me? Yet it was I who held up society's bare bones. It was I who gave Quirks to those who needed them, who protected the people when they needed me. Do you find it wrong to fix what is broken, to dare to try?"

All for One's hand shifted upwards. He gripped Izuku's chin, stroked a thumb along his jaw. His touch was gentle but not tender. Soft, but not sweet.

"I think you need to reconsider your definition of hero," All for One said. "The heroes didn't help you at all. Greed. Corruption. They're drunk on their own power and their righteousness, but they seethe and teem with darkness."

Wrong. Gazing on him, all Izuku could feel was wrong. A wrongness, an unnaturalness that All for One had crafted himself from.

"Everything was taken away from me." Izuku had heard that before. All for One had said that before.

He wanted to shout, to argue and protest until his throat hurt and his voice went hoarse. But Izuku didn't. Something, that same buried instinct, told him to stay quiet. To play along.

"All Might looked for a successor." Here, All for One's mouth quirked upwards into a smile. "And I do believe he found one, Izuku, wouldn't you agree?"

He tapped the underside of Izuku's chin. Izuku whispered a "yes."

"You're clever, little dragon. I'm sorry. I think you'll understand when I say passing on his Quirk was a calculated decision, something akin to survival, if you will, and my brother's Quirk has only destroyed you. Don't let him fool you into thinking he cares."

The words got stuck in Izuku's throat. All for One hooked claws into Izuku's very fears and dragged them out writhing and wailing.

"All Might saw your light and tried to dampen it. I see your embers and will set you alight." The hand dropped away from Izuku's face, but not before All for One's searching fingers caught a tear from the corner of his eye. "He filled your head with nonsense. He's made you promises he has no intention of keeping."

"He'll come."

It was shaky. Like Izuku didn't believe it himself.

The curve of All for One's mouth was mournful. "They will not come."

Izuku didn't realize he was about to fall until he did, into an empty, gaping void. The Quirk surrounded him, and Izuku was back where he started as Kurogiri left him shaking on the cold floor.

He laid there bonelessly on the ground, just breathing. Just feeling. Izuku wasn't the kind to give up—he'd suffered his years. He wasn't terribly strong, but he'd held out long enough.

Now Izuku could feel despair creeping in. It tended to do that. Silent, wordless, a looming shadow that Izuku turned to see too late. He could feel it grasping at him, and the worst part was that Izuku let it.

Izuku wasn't the kind to give up, but for the first time he thought he was coming close. He'd tried.

He'd tried. He'd tried so, so hard, and it hadn't been enough.

Izuku knocked at the wall. He knew, he _knew,_ but he tried anyway.

 _Please,_ Izuku begged. His knuckles ached and scraped, coming away dusted with blood. _Are you there?_

It was when the silence followed that Izuku wept.

Despair was first. Doubt was next, drawing its thick cloak over Izuku's shaking body, draping him in a warmth that was not the least bit comforting. No one had come. The only ones that had come for him were villains, not heroes.

Izuku tried to conjure up the feeling of All Might holding him, tried to remember what it was like when All Might had carried him after USJ, after the hallway. It was hard to. He remembered the way All Might had slid a steady arm under Izuku's knees but couldn't remember what All Might's face had looked like. Had he smiled?

Izuku pressed his fingers to either side of his mouth and drew his lips upward. Had he smiled?

"All Might…"

Did he care? The frightening thing was the possibility it might be true. That All Might had chosen Izuku because he'd needed someone to pass One for All onto, spilling an entire ocean into a small glass cup. That All Might had needed someone who wouldn't mind throwing himself into danger. That Izuku had swallowed that strand of hair but had unknowingly joined a battle he couldn't win.

But All Might wasn't like that. Maybe Izuku was, but All Might wasn't. He couldn't be, because while Izuku had been suffering years he'd also curled up in a corner clutching a little figuring that meant something.

It was lonely up top. Izuku had told Kacchan that, but he wondered if Toshinori had ever the same way Izuku did now. It was hard to imagine him scared of anything. It was hard to picture him giving up, and now Izuku felt like he was failing his hero.

It was hard to imagine Kacchan scared of anything, either. Izuku knew he had to be, but Izuku could only see Kacchan in front of him, always running towards his goal. Once in a while he'd look back and Izuku would catch his gaze.

Kacchan was braver than Izuku. Stronger than Izuku.

Izuku had always known that. That was why he'd chased after him for so long, because he thought Kacchan was worth following. Kacchan had come so far in the years they were apart. Izuku saw a deep-running determination, a desire to be a hero that was the same that Izuku remembered yet different at the same time. He'd changed. He'd become someone a little different, a little older, a little wiser. And he'd become more guarded, more wary, but he'd let Izuku in despite it. He'd given Izuku his trust.

Izuku mourned that he'd never gotten to tell Kacchan then in the forest. The test of courage—not just that Izuku was Izuku but that he was proud of him. The words Izuku had longed to say, a million things that had built up. That Izuku saw a hero in him and always had, and always, always would.

Izuku ran his tongue over his teeth; his mouth tasted sour, like he'd just eaten candy.

If he could believe in nothing he had to believe in Kacchan. It was the only way Izuku thought he would make it out alive.

It was funny, how intertwined they were. How tangled the web had become, how fate had tied their threads together even across the years and the miles and miles of separation. Through the bitter, through the sweet.

Izuku didn't know what he would have done. Kacchan was an anchor. Kacchan was the lifeline Izuku clung to, a representation of something to return to. Someone to return to.

Villainry ran in the blood. Hisashi believed that—when Izuku spoke to him he saw that belief running clear through his veins. Villainry ran in the blood, hooked itself, and it was in Izuku, in him and in his body and mind.

It'd caught up to him five years ago when Hisashi had first stepped foot into the small sanctuary that was home. It'd caught up to him the first time Izuku met the whole of Chimera, saw the beast with its ugly monstrous heads. It'd caught up to him now when Izuku was standing on the precipice, when Izuku had become a catalyst for everything that had gone wrong.

It caught up to him as the door opened and Shigaraki stepped in.

"You're coming with me."

Izuku remained where he was. Finally he felt something else bubbling in him—anger and spite. There was very little Izuku could do but now he refused to bend to Shigaraki's will.

The rebellion vanished when Shigaraki grabbed the front of Izuku's shirt, pulling him close threatening. He could see Shigaraki's eyes, bloodshot but clear with a vision.

"One wrong word and I'll kill you where you stand," Shigaraki hissed. "I swear it, so keep your mouth shut."

"I'd like to see you try," Izuku spat back.

Shigaraki shut his eyes. He took in a breath through his nose.

"Sensei needs _me,_ " Izuku said slowly, "so you can't touch me, Shigaraki, unless you'd like to test that."

"Not another word," Shigaraki warned, and then pulled Izuku out the door. They didn't go far, not compared to when Izuku had visited Dr. Tsubasa, so he knew he was going somewhere different.

"You're one of us," Shigaraki said, "aren't you?"

Izuku knew the only answer he could give. "Yes."

"Prove it, then," Shigaraki ordered, and Izuku felt goosebumps prickle on his skin. "We've been having— some issues with a… friend of yours. Convince him to join us."

The air left Izuku's lungs in a second.

"Ba- Bakugou?"

Shigaraki turned his attention away. He snapped a few orders over his shoulder Izuku couldn't hear over the buzzing in his ears. Kurogiri slid in smoothly.

"Bakugou would make a valuable asset to the League," he explained, "but he's refused our efforts. We think a familiar face may be more… convincing."

"You want me to convince Bakugou to be a villain."

Kurogiri dipped his head. "That is exactly what we are asking."

The very idea was laughable. Kacchan, a villain. _Kacchan_ , a villain. For as long as Izuku remembered Kacchan had never wanted anything more than to be a hero. He was willing to fight for it. He'd met Izuku, step for step for step, watching the hero fights and getting their parents' help sending each other emails loaded with links to forum posts and video clips. As they'd gotten older, Kacchan had pulled away a little more, but Izuku saw that burning desire for what it was.

Kacchan would never be a villain. If Izuku had to pick one person it would be him.

"I think that's a difficult task."

Kurogiri gave him a look. "Perhaps," he said, and the conversation was over just like that. Izuku walked free of chains through the doorway and stopped short at the sight of Kacchan.

They hadn't seen each other in— years, it felt like. Where they'd let Izuku free, they'd chained Kacchan down, strapped him to a chair. A muzzle clamped over his face.

So he'd fought back. A tiny bit of pride swelled in him.

Kacchan didn't look up when they walked in.

"You need to take the chains off," Izuku directed. He tilted his head in Kacchan's direction and was surprised at how even the order was. "You think it's convincing to lock him up?"

Even if they refused, maybe Izuku could work something out. He could get a few of the shackles off if he tried.

Izuku and Shigaraki held a stare-off, but it was Shigaraki who broke away first.

"Toga," he called. "Get some of the stuff off him."

Toga skipped in. Compared to the others she looked quite cheerful. She slowed when she passed Izuku, peering at him with amber eyes, her mouth red. She giggled a little, and Izuku stepped back.

"I—"

"Toga," Shigaraki snapped.

Toga pouted.

"But I wanna play with him!" She blinked at Izuku, lashes fluttering, then said, "You're just so cute."

She ignored Shigaraki's orders and pressed a little closer. Izuku's eyes raked over her, noting where her hands were, where her weapons were. She smelled faintly sweet, like candy, and her smile was almost innocent.

Toga slid her hand between them. Shigaraki made a warning noise, but Izuku caught her waist before she could get closer.

"Stop," Shigaraki growled, and Toga withdrew. Izuku pressed his hand to his side but found he wasn't shaking at all.

Toga undid a few of Kacchan's chains. Not all of them, but she let him free of the chair and slipped the muzzle off of him, leaving just the shackles around his wrists and ankles. Izuku hated the sight.

Kacchan finally looked up, spitting in Toga's face. He surged against his constraints but stopped when he saw Izuku standing, silent and motionless.

The villains withdrew. Izuku stayed where he was until they left the room entirely.

"Akatani," Kacchan said.

"Bakugou."

He found himself moving forward, but stopped. Kacchan shook his head.

"Tell me it's not true."

Izuku blinked. He'd spent all this time wanting to see Kacchan. Now Kacchan was in front of him, but it didn't feel right.

"What's not true?"

"That you're with them."

Izuku opened his trembling mouth, but he couldn't find the words in him to refuse. He felt his eyes burn.

"Tell me it's not _true!"_ Kacchan roared in his face, straining against his chains until they were so close Izuku could see the desperation. "Tell me it's not fucking true, because I did it for you! I told them you wouldn't. I told them you'd never."

"Will you listen to me?"

"So it's true."

"Will you listen to me? Please, Bakugou—"

"So it's true," Kacchan said, voice flat. He wasn't angry. "So you really just, you betrayed all the damn trust everyone…"

He didn't need to hurt Izuku. Just hearing the words was enough. Kacchan sank backwards, and when Izuku tried to get a little closer Kacchan moved away.

"Please."

"I don't want to listen to you," Kacchan said. "If you're the traitor, fine. But then you've got nothing left to say to me."

"I—"

"I don't want to hear it!"

"I need you," Izuku confessed. Kacchan's hands shook.

"You mean the League needs me," he said lowly, and Izuku hated how it felt like it was true. The League wanted Kacchan. Shigaraki had proved that.

" _I_ need you."

"For what?" Kacchan shouted. "To mock me? To humiliate me? To laugh at me, because I thought I could— fuck! I thought I could _trust_ you, Akatani! I trusted you!"

"You can."

"To betray me?"

"To help you."

For a second there was no response.

"Don't lie to me," Kacchan spat, shuffling to face the wall.

Izuku's hand tightened, and he felt metal dig into his flesh. Blood dripped down his fingers, warm with pain. He spun the small knife he'd stolen from Toga and slipped it into his pocket.

"I would never lie to you," Izuku whispered, "not anymore, Bakugou."

Kacchan shook his head.

Izuku spent years dreaming of a day when the two of them would reunite. He always imagined Kacchan welcoming him back with open arms. He imagined Kacchan grinning so wide it hurt. He imagined Kacchan pulling the shards from his heart until the wounds closed over.

Other times he thought Kacchan might say words Izuku thought he deserved. _Villain._ Hands smoking across Izuku's shoulder, his throat, when he realized what Izuku had done.

Neither of those happened. Now it was just this—the two of them, bound not in fate but in chains. Aching, alone, the avalanche sinking between the childhood friends.

Izuku surged forward, but finally he sank down, staring at his friend's back, and slid his hand across the cold floor.

 _Kacchan._

Kacchan didn't move. Izuku wasn't sure if he'd heard or not, or if he was refusing to listen.

 _Kacchan,_ Izuku knocked again. _Ka-cchan._

Kacchan's head jerked to the side. His restraints clinked against each other. A triangle of light illuminated his face; Izuku saw his eyes widen.

 _Kacchan,_ Izuku said, _it's me._

Kacchan turned, lifting his gaze to meet Izuku's. They stared across the cell towards each other.

"...Deku?"


	40. Chapter 40

**Flare Signal  
** _chapter forty_

* * *

 _I'm sorry, Kacchan._

The sound echoed slightly in the hallway. In his head, Izuku began to count the seconds that passed since he'd left. Kacchan, he knew, would be doing the same.

They made another turn down a different hallway, and when Izuku stopped in front of the door to the lion's den, he took a deep breath. Just a little longer, and it would be over.

Izuku wanted to see Kacchan's face a last time. It hadn't been enough, those spare few hours they'd had together. The time Izuku had spent, face pressed close to Kacchan's shoulder. Kacchan's hands around his wrists, his voice in Izuku's ear. It wasn't enough. It wasn't enough.

All for One was waiting for him. He rose from the bed as Izuku entered.

When Izuku was a kid, he'd watched plenty of All Might movies. It was strange how memories revealed themselves, but he remembered a movie called _The Man in the Chamber_ now. Izuku had long since forgotten most of the plot—he'd gotten distracted by how cool All Might was, of course, and it hadn't been particularly good.

All the movies ended with All Might saving everyone from a villain. But it was the beginning of the movie that had remained with Izuku for years after. Soft smoke in a hissing chamber. A labyrinth of twisting tubes suspending a figure sustained by blood. The villain turned his head and began to unfurl. He'd been human, but not quite, something terrible about the way he had stared out from the screen, pinning Izuku in his searching gaze.

That was what All for One looked like. That villain that All Might had faced in the movie. Like someone who was imagined, like a dark pulsing shard of heart, a man in a chamber.

Except— except this one was _real._

This wasn't a movie. Izuku couldn't press pause. This villain was real even though he should have never been.

Most of the machinery that All for One had been hooked up to was now detached, lying limp and lifeless on the ground. All for One stood strong, but around his neck and head there still remained a device.

"Phoenix," All for One drawled.

Not little dragon. Not Mirage, not Akatani, not even Midoriya Izuku. He called Izuku _Phoenix,_ the name Izuku had chosen for himself.

He held his tongue and held his tears. A warning came back to him, a whisper. _Pretend he has you._

Izuku bowed his head.

"Sensei," he said, and All for One made an intrigued noise. He beckoned with a hand, and Izuku was helpless to follow the command. When Izuku got closer, he spoke. "No one… All— All Might didn't come."

"I told you he wouldn't," All for One crooned, voice dripping with sympathy. "You can't believe him. Now you see."

"I… I— _Sensei."_

It wasn't hard to cry. Izuku sniffled, lifted a hand to his face to wipe at his tears.

"Oh, my boy," All for One said, "I know."

He extended a hand. Izuku reached for it then hesitated, fingers curling.

"You're just like him."

"You told me that before," Izuku croaked, "who?"

All for One shook his head. "You are just… like him."

Izuku shut his eyes. He remembered his dreams, and then opened his eyes again.

"I.. I can't do this anymore, Sensei," Izuku said. He let his voice shake. "I feel so lost. It's like they never saw me at all."

The best lies were the ones that were the closest to truth.

"I see you as you are," All for One murmured, "an ember in the ashes…"

He extended his hand farther, and this time Izuku took it. Weathered, strong fingers wrapped around Izuku's own; All for One's hand was dry.

"I see you," All for One said, and it was like looking into a mirror and seeing someone else looking back. It was like a drop into a deep well. "All Might does not."

He tugged Izuku close.

"You were right," Izuku whispered, blinking back his tears now that he had started to run dry. "About- about all of it."

He looked up through his lashes. All for One was smiling.

"They don't, they're not going to come, are they? And— and All Might just wanted.. He told me that… I- I just wanted him, I wanted to believe him so desperately that I thought," Izuku choked.

All for One pressed a hand to Izuku's shoulder. Izuku cried again.

"I'll give," Izuku said, then stumbled, the fear making his words twist, "I- I, I know you w-want it. I'll give, ah, I'll give One… One for All to you. I know you want it. I know you want it."

All for One tipped Izuku's chin up. "You mistake me. I don't need One for All… I don't want it, but I want you. Leave the heroes behind."

Izuku pressed his trembling lips together. "I…"

A rough thumb traced up his cheek, then caught the tears under Izuku's eyes. Izuku dropped his head.

"Will you let Bakugou go?"

All for One's hand stilled. He didn't seem angry, though, merely curious. Izuku caught his breath and held it, scared of the answer.

"It… can be arranged," he said after a moment, "you don't think he belongs here? Tomura seemed convinced he would."

"He's not like me."

A pause.

"Come with me, my boy."

All for One draped a heavy hand over the back of Izuku's neck and drew him further into the dark. Izuku bowed his head. In his mind's eye he pictured a crinkled piece of paper, wet smudges of dark ink where he'd cried over it. Then he imagined the tall man reading it, large hands gripping the edges.

 _Dear Toshinori,_

 _If this letter reaches your hands, something's gone wrong. I hope you don't have to read this, but if you are… I'm sorry._

 _There's something about me that you need to know._

 _I hope you don't hate me. I think you might, so before that happens I want to thank you for believing in me, because not a lot of people have. I didn't. I guess what I really mean to say is you gave me a chance, and I wish I could be the hero you wanted me to be._

 _I'm not._

Izuku bit down hard on the inside of his cheek. What would Toshinori see in his words? Would he hear Izuku's voice begging him for forgiveness? Would he come, after that?

All for One's hand heavy around his neck. The disappearing light.

A wisp of smoke, curling at the edge of Izuku's vision. He couldn't turn his head, but he heard Kurogiri's voice betray his panic.

"The other one is gone."

"Hm?" All for One didn't sound very concerned.

"Bakugou, the one Tomura wanted to join the League. He's escaped."

Pain sparked along Izuku's scalp as All for One's hand shifted, tugging at his hair. It was nothing compared to feeling of triumph that reigned quietly, the taste of it warm. Relief made Izuku hide his smile.

"Let him go."

Kurogiri paused, and Izuku _felt_ something shift next to him. The darkness pulsed.

"Let the boy go. I have no use for him here—he'll lead the heroes nicely to our location. They're already on their way here."

Kurogiri vanished. Izuku dared to speak up.

"You just… you'd just let him go."

"Think of it as a measure of trust, dear boy," All for One said, and the pressure on Izuku's neck eased. "I am not one to go back on my word, you see."

Izuku swallowed.

"All Might is coming," All for One said, and his voice was more distant, "but I think he would find himself a little too late, wouldn't you agree?"

"Sensei," Izuku murmured, "I don't want to talk to him."

"That's alright," All for One consoled. Izuku wanted him to take his hand off of Izuku. He felt hyper-aware of All for One's touch—gentle, comforting, but not. Not any bit. "All you have to do is stand by my side."

Izuku dropped his hand to his side.

The knife was light, tucked somewhere easy to reach. Izuku had used it to free Kacchan from his chains. He'd told Kacchan to hold still, working the knife against the lock and then pulling a wire from his shoe to use as leverage. The clink of the chains against the floor was muted by the feeling of success. Repeated again for each restraint that locked Kacchan down, and once he was free they'd looked each other in the eyes.

Izuku remained kneeling at Kacchan's feet, but a second later he'd been tugged fiercely upwards to stand next to Kacchan.

They'd counted together, voices quiet as they plotted. Izuku knew Kacchan would be fleeing now, doing his part of the escape. And he'd be let go despite Shigaraki's wishes.

 _Get help,_ he'd told Kacchan. _You need to go while I keep them distracted. I'll follow._

They couldn't have Kacchan. They could have Izuku, but they couldn't have Kacchan.

He hadn't left any room in the plan for Kacchan to argue. He couldn't look Kacchan in the eye, not while he was lying; Kacchan would have known.

Izuku pictured him now, hands flaring, releasing light that would guide him from this dark place. He pictured Kacchan stumbling out into the light. The heroes would find him. The heroes would bring him home. That was what mattered—that he would live, that he would be saved, that he would see another day.

 _Tomorrow, and tomorrow._

As he'd told Kacchan, Izuku would go with All for One. Long enough to distract him, long enough for Kacchan to get away. He'd take care of himself while Kacchan raced to find help, and Izuku would slip away unnoticed and unchained.

That wasn't happening. All for One wasn't going to let him go, and Izuku was determined to see this fight to the end. He was going to close the circle. He was going to end where he started, but stronger now, different now, better now. It was what they deserved.

Izuku tasted smoke. His feet moved for him. He blinked and saw darkness, blinked again and saw no light enter his vision.

 _Kacchan,_ Izuku thought.

 _Did you hear me, Kacchan?_ That terrible, crushing loneliness. _I tried… did you hear me when I called?_

He tapped his fingers against his thigh in a familiar pattern. Memories flicked in his mind in place of the darkness. Kacchan, the day before everything changed. Kacchan, years later, holding a faded picture from his wallet.

 _Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow._

Time shifted. Izuku couldn't place his finger on it, couldn't pinpoint why. Later he would say it was the knowing—how near Izuku was to the end of it. It was like crawling to the back of the attic in the midst of a storm, opening dusty boxes and pulling out the past as the wind howled outside.

It was nighttime. Izuku hadn't realized they were outside until he felt his feet press against concrete then soft grass. The sound reached him next, the echo of destruction as All for One's Nomus tore the city apart.

"Look," All for One said.

Smoke twisted upwards, tinged orange by firelight. Were any of the fires his father's?

A sickening thought suddenly struck Izuku. Hisashi hadn't come either.

"Why are you crying?" Izuku shuddered, face wet as All for One glanced in his direction. "There's no need for tears."

He couldn't answer. All Might would be here soon.

Kamino Ward stretched before the two of them. Izuku saw its buildings silhouetted against the night sky, jutting upwards defiantly. He closed one eye and saw a different city sprawling under his feet, but All for One had stood above that one too in Izuku's dreams.

"I'm just like him," Izuku whispered to himself. The dream was fresh in his memory. Yet the dream itself _was_ a memory—and a warning. One for All awakened in Izuku, the Quirk alive as Izuku had always felt it but fading around the edges.

Two brothers alone at the top of a hill, one crumpling the world in his fist. Just like Toshinori said. Just like Izuku had seen. He would carry that with him.

"All for One!"

Izuku's knees went weak, but he remained standing when he heard All Might's voice. All for One took a few, languid steps forward, and Izuku slipped behind him into his shadow, training his eyes on the back of All for One's head. The support system that remained crawled around All for One's neck, silvery and unnatural.

"All for One," All Might called again, closer, and Izuku felt the ground shake as All Might landed in front of his enemy. "Where is he?"

 _Where is he?_

Izuku's heart dropped in him like a stone. All for One's shadow swallowed him, the darkness pouring into every crack and fracture. All Might was here.

All for One chuckled. "I don't know who you're talking about."

The ground cracked. "Don't play games with me, All for One. What have you done with him?"

"What have _I_ done with him?" All for One tilted his head back and laughed. The sound was an arrow through the ribs. "What have I done to him? You were the one who left him, All Might. He learned loneliness from you. What have _you_ done to him?"

"Tell me where he is." All Might's voice was low, dangerous. "Tell me where he is and I'll consider letting you walk away alive."

Izuku spun the knife from its spot and clenched his fingers tight around its the hilt. He would have to be fast. He would have to do this right. He took a silent step forward.

"You won't have to do any considering except for your own mistakes," All for One drawled, then moved aside. The light spilled in, and Izuku lifted his eyes and saw All Might there. "See him, All Might. See him as he should be, this rising phoenix."

Izuku remained still. The light in All Might's eyes was dying.

All Might opened his mouth, but he couldn't seem to form words.

 _Dear Toshinori—_

"Hello, All Might." His voice was strange and cold to his own ears.

All Might choked. He lifted a hand, his eyes still caught in Izuku's gaze, and wiped it across his mouth.

"Mi—" he said. Izuku had never heard him like this before.

"You will have to fight me," All for One began. He held out a hand, and Izuku watched something in All Might crack when Izuku slipped his hand into All for One's briefly before letting go. "But will you fight him?"

"Please," All Might said, shaking his head.

"How does it feel when everything is taken from you?"

"Please," All Might said again, holding out his hands a last time, "come back to me. Come with me."

Izuku shook his head. He stepped back. "I can't."

He saw the moment when All Might realized Izuku wasn't going to join him, the twist of his hands into fists, the familiar pulse of One for All that Izuku learned to recognize. All for One turned to fight. Izuku let One for All loose, feeling the pull of the waves as he shut his eyes.

When he opened them again, the world slowed. Izuku, silent and out of sight, faded into the soft smoke as he leapt. His Quirk glimmered across his skin as he peeled the illusion away and then drove the knife downward, carving into metal. All for One turned, but not fast enough as Izuku tore through the support system keeping him alive, the unnatural lines hooked to each other.

Again, the knife to the back of All for One's neck, but Izuku wasn't looking at him this time. He looked to All Might, bathed in the green-tinted light of Izuku's Quirk.

All Might mouthed his name, eyes gleaming.

Izuku blinked as the world caught up to them, and then All for One whirled faster than Izuku thought possible. Black tendrils crept from his body, emerging with claws like from Izuku's nightmares. Izuku moved without thinking, throwing himself bodily towards All Might.

"Did you really think," Izuku rasped in All Might's ear, "that I would join him?"

All Might said something that turned into a wordless shout. Izuku felt pain echo through his body as something sharp twisted and tore through him. He gasped. All Might caught him.

"You chose him," All for One thundered over the buzzing in Izuku's ears. "You _chose him._ "

"Look at me," All Might said, voice tight, "look at me, don't look—keep your eyes on me."

Izuku turned his gaze to All for One.

"You can't have it," he said, and a laugh bubbled in his throat. "You can't have any of it. You'll never have me, and you'll never have All Might, and you'll never— you'll never have One for All."

Izuku pressed his hand to his side. When he lifted it again he saw blood.

He remembered the promise Kacchan had made him, back in that dark cell. "One for All will outlive you."

" _No."_

All Might shielded Izuku from an explosion of power. He cradled Izuku as he leapt away, the ground breaking under his feet.

"Look at me."

"I'm sorry," Izuku whispered. He clutched at All Might's costume. "I'm sorry, All Might, I'm sorry—"

All Might set him down, hands fluttering over Izuku's wound before he drew his hand up to Izuku's face.

"You chose me," he murmured, and Izuku sobbed breathlessly.

"Again," Izuku said, "I'd do it again and again. Every time."

He dragged his gaze towards All for One, far away now. He was waiting for All Might—maybe he knew, like Izuku did, that this was the end. That there was no need to rush. Izuku scrabbled at All Might's chest. He had to make him understand.

"You have to win," he gasped, words trailing off into a low whine when it hurt, "you have to fight for me."

All Might kept his eyes on Izuku's face.

"Then you have to fight for me, alright?" He held Izuku's broken body for a moment and pressed a kiss to his forehead. All Might cast a regretful look at him, his voice little more than a whisper. "You're next."

Then he was gone, but Izuku no longer felt alone. He saw All Might haloed in light, fighting with everything he had, and knew he would win.

 _Kacchan. Kacchan, it's me._ The turn of Kacchan's head, the light on his face.

And there he was.

Kacchan, like a falling star, dropping silently through the sky. Izuku lifted his head to see the light streaking behind him, the smoke pouring from his palms like a signal flare.

"Deku!"

Izuku forced his eyes open when Kacchan called his name again.

"Deku!"

"Kacchan," Izuku said, as Kacchan dropped to his knees next to him. His eyes were wide and panicked. Kacchan pressed a hand to Izuku's side, and his vision flared white.

Kacchan pulled Izuku towards him. He was speaking frantically, but Izuku couldn't quite catch all of it.

"Kacchan," Izuku breathed, and Kacchan stopped. His eyes were furious.

"Don't you dare," he growled. He tugged Izuku's arm over his shoulder and braced both of his arms under Izuku. When he stood he staggered under Izuku's weight. "Don't you fucking dare, Deku."

Izuku gripped the back of Kacchan's shirt as he swayed. He put his face to Kacchan's shoulder.

"Stop, Kacchan."

"Shut up."

"Kacchan, stop," Izuku said again when he stumbled. Kacchan knelt again, but he didn't let go. "I…"

"I don't want to hear it," Kacchan said, voice strained, and when he ducked his head over Izuku's shoulder Izuku could hear him as clear as day.

"Take me home," Izuku whispered, and he heard Kacchan's breath catch. "Please, Kacchan."

"Izuku!"

There was a rush of movement. The world tipped, and then Izuku stared up into Silver's face. He reached up to touch her, to reassure her, but he couldn't lift his hand all the way. She caught it, wrapping one arm around him and keeping his hand in hers. Kacchan stayed where he was, kneeling.

His focus drifted. Kacchan shook him, and the pain splintered but kept him awake.

"I want," Izuku mumbled, and he wasn't sure who he was speaking to, "I want my mom."

Silver squeezed his hand. He hardly felt it.

"I know," she said. Kacchan suddenly twisted, shouting angrily over his shoulder. Izuku made a half-noise, and Kacchan turned back to him, curling over his body.

"Don't do this to me again," he said, voice low. "Izuku."

"I'm scared," Izuku whispered. Kacchan's mouth twisted.

Izuku blinked slowly up at him. The pain pulled at him, sinking deep into the ocean, rolling waves pushing him under and then tossing him against the rocks. But he needed to… he needed—

Silver carded a hand through his hair. Her touch was familiar and comforting, and Izuku sank deeper as she began to hum quietly. A thread of music followed him into the edge of unconsciousness as his friends held him.

Izuku slid his fingers along Kacchan's back, then tapped weakly what he had no strength left to say.

 _I'm sorry, Kacchan._


	41. Chapter 41

**Flare Signal** _  
interlude v — part one_

* * *

Katsuki had gotten out relatively unscathed.

No permanent injuries, his parents had been reassured. Mom had hardly been impressed, but there was approval and relief in the straight line of her back. No other words, a knock to the back of his head that didn't hurt, but she turned her emotions into a downturn of the lips the same way Katsuki did. He took it.

The worst of it was a cut down his back, gotten somewhere between the fight at the training camp and the days after. He didn't really remember. A handful of stitches. Some bandages, some bruises. A hell of a headache.

The League had left him with that—and old tear stains where he hadn't cried in years.

Katsuki was cleared from the hospital in days and escorted home by his teachers. He hadn't talked to them. They hadn't tried to talk to him, not when Katsuki was stone-still and silent. But he couldn't stand to be home either—looking at his parents made shame rise like bile in his throat, so Katsuki didn't stay.

There was still heavy cleanup after Kamino, a hundred things to take care of, so Katsuki pulled his weight volunteering at a nearby food bank. The fallout of All Might's last fight and the combined regular delivery schedule kept Katsuki busy. It felt like such a small thing to do, trudging each day to deliver emergency packs of food and seeing hungry faces light up. But it made Katsuki feel a little less like shit, and no one asked too many questions even though he saw the recognition in their eyes.

He threw himself into the work. When he wasn't doing deliveries he tried to do other things. Katsuki slid back into his old morning jog when the sky was still grey. Ignored his text messages. Went to the gym and trained, mindful of his injuries but pushing himself to be stronger. Tried not to remember, then made himself remember because he didn't want to forget.

Time seemed to trickle past strangely. Each day blurred into the next. When his phone wouldn't stop buzzing, Katsuki shut it off entirely, just to have quiet.

Ten days after, Katsuki caved and read the news. Headline after headline about All Might, about Katsuki and Deku. Most of them were thankfully about All Might and the announcement of his retirement than of the two kidnapped kids from U.A. The teachers and the situation had worked their magic then. Good.

Despite the outpouring of news, though, the actual reports were startlingly scarce. There was little information about All Might himself, just that he'd been hospitalized and was being treated for his injuries. Even less about Katsuki, who had a few lines here and there, and Deku, whose status remained frustratingly "unknown to the public."

Katsuki hadn't seen Deku since— since that night.

Frighteningly still under Katsuki's hands.

He hadn't been allowed to see Deku. Actually, very few people had; Aizawa-sensei had been one of them, and he'd promised to send updates if there were any. Those had been few and far between. It wasn't reassuring at all. Katsuki thought he deserved to see Deku, but apparently there wasn't reason enough. He had to pass the hospital every day, and the sight of it made him sick.

"Check your phone!" Mom shouted as Katsuki stomped through the door and past the kitchen. "Your classmates won't quit bugging me."

"Fine," he snapped over his shoulder. He missed her response when he slammed the door to his room shut. Katsuki scoffed as he slid his phone from his pocket, turning it on for the first time in the past few days.

A few missed calls. Mostly texts from his classmates, individually and in that awful group chat Iida had put together.

The most recent messages, however, suggested a meet-up at U.A. Iida had, apparently, convinced Aizawa-sensei it was a good idea.

His fingers hovered over the phone keyboard. Katsuki's first response was to tell them _no thanks_ , but he erased the message and sat down heavily on his bed, staring at the familiar names.

This was stupid. He didn't have to go. He didn't have to do anything, actually—he could just keep ignoring them, going back to his dull routine in the hopes that he would eventually find solace in it.

He didn't want to see them—and then he did. An aching desire. He felt like he was picking at a scab, getting his nail under the dark blood and peeling it back to the raw skin underneath.

Katsuki typed ' _Yes'_ before he could regret it. A flood of response followed, and he paused to read them, surprised by the enthusiasm. A few people happy to see him in the chat. A couple others who asked how he was doing.

Katsuki told them he was fine. He was alive. He'd gotten his stitches out a few days prior. He was— fine.

He switched the phone off and tossed it to the side, burying his face in his hands. He suddenly _did_ regret saying he'd go _,_ but he'd look dumb if he told them he'd changed his mind. He could picture them now, eyes sharp and judgemental as they took him in.

Kidnapped. Weak. Gaunt, bruised. Useless.

He was always fucking running. He was _always_ fucking running, catching up, trying to keep his pace. It was like trying to run in a nightmare, feet slipping under him, never making it anywhere. They would see him like he was.

The loathing choked him. Now there was nothing to make it stop, no one to tell him otherwise. In the end it was true.

In the end, Katsuki hadn't been fast enough, or strong enough. He'd run away from All for One and from _Deku_. And then he'd held his friend's body, feeling him draw in wheezing breaths slower and slower.

He wanted so badly to talk to someone. For someone to hold him, tender, the way All Might had looked at Deku, before. Katsuki slung his feet over the edge of the bed and left his home, heading to a different apartment. He stood outside the door, fingers tracing the edges of the key in his pocket. Eventually he couldn't work up the courage to knock, or to walk in.

He circled around to the window. Stood under it. Curled his fingers into a fist that thudded uselessly once against the glass before he stopped. He couldn't do it.

It was about the right time for Auntie Inko to be in, but he didn't know how to talk to her. Katsuki couldn't look her in the eye. Not while she thought— not while…

He pressed his forehead to the window, peering in at the familiar space. It seemed wrong, somehow, to be standing here.

Katsuki couldn't be here. He couldn't look Auntie Inko in the eye, not while she thought Deku was gone. Not after Deku had skimmed his fingers on the back of his neck and said, _I'm sorry, Kacchan._ Not after that.

He was a coward, he knew. Knowing didn't make it any better.

The next morning Katsuki called in to tell his supervisor he wasn't going to be there. He felt bad about it but was reassured it would be fine; Katsuki was one of many.

He took his time getting to U.A. Everyone had arranged to meet outside in the courtyard.

Katsuki wasn't scared. Not one bit, so he shoved his way through the gates and stalked in.

The group immediately went quiet as everyone turned as one to see who had walked in. Katsuki crossed his arms when his classmates continued to stare at him.

"Don't you have better things to do?" he snapped. The class returned to what they were doing before. Someone had spread out a picnic blanket; others had brought breakfast. He found a spot and settled in. Kirishima plopped down next to him, offering a tea egg, and Katsuki took it, carefully peeling the shell and savoring it.

It didn't look like everyone was here, nor was everyone coming. But a large group had showed up, though the teachers were a no-show.

A moment later, though, Katsuki spotted Aizawa-sensei crossing the campus grounds, hands tucked in his pockets. Mic-sensei bounded after him, clearly in higher spirits. A cheer went up at the sight of them.

"Hello, little listeners!" Mic-sensei called. He was loud enough that from the distance it sounded like a normal speaking voice. "I am here… with donuts!"

"I brought coffee," Aizawa-sensei said as they drew closer, "but just for me."

"Damn," Kirishima muttered, "of course he would. Hey, I'm grabbing a donut. Want one?"

"No," Katsuki said. Kirishima patted his shoulder and then went off to join a couple students crowding Mic-sensei.

While everyone's attention was on Mic-sensei, Aizawa-sensei approached. He crouched down next to Katsuki where Kirishima had been, procuring a single cup of coffee as promised. He blew carefully along the top then drank. They didn't talk for a while. Then—

"Anything happen? With Deku?"

Aizawa-sensei blew out a breath. He kept his gaze locked on his students. "No. It's still touch-and-go as far as…"

Katsuki hadn't expected anything, but he twisted his hands in front of him. Power surged then receded in his veins. It made him scared.

"I want to talk to Gran Torino."

"Mm?"

"Gran Torino," Katsuki said, feeling his patience wear thin, "the pro De… Akatani interned with. I want to talk to him. Or that detective guy if he's not available."

Then, remembering his manners, Katsuki sighed and added, "Please."

Aizawa-sensei thought for a moment.

"I'll… see what I can do." He sent a stern gaze in Katsuki's direction. "Don't do anything dumb. He's busy working on the League. No promises he'll be able to meet you."

"That's fine," Katsuki said, even though it kind of… wasn't. "But it's important."

"Alright, kid." There was a loud crashing noise from the distance from Mic-sensei's general direction. Aizawa-sensei's eyes flashed. He grumbled something under his breath, then patted Katsuki's shoulder as he got up. "I'll be back. Let me deal with this."

"Dumbasses," Katsuki muttered. No one had better blown anything up without him. Aizawa-sensei disappeared, striding off with his capture weapon ready, and Katsuki almost smiled.

"Bakugou."

The smile faded. He didn't move, but he flicked his gaze up and to the side, where Todoroki stood. He looked all casual, keeping his cool like always as he leaned against the tree, but Katsuki could tell he was tense. Todoroki blinked, pale eyes sharp, then jerked his chin in a different direction.

"Can we talk?" Todoroki shifted. "Somewhere a little more… private."

Katsuki studied him. He stood, brushing himself off. "Let's go."

They walked a little whiles away from the larger group, splitting off to the side where less people would see them. Katsuki crossed his arms. He and Todoroki weren't _friends_. Katsuki didn't hate him by any means, and quietly admired the power and control born from suffering—but that didn't change the fact that they just weren't friends.

"We're far enough," Katsuki said, slowing, and ahead of him, Todoroki stopped. "What do you want?"

Todoroki worked his jaw for a moment. "I wanted to ask you about Akatani."

Katsuki bristled. "If you want to know how he's doing I can't answer that. And asking me is stupid, so if that's your question, fuck off."

Todoroki's lips thinned into a straight line. "That wasn't my question. You were… there with him."

His wrists ached. When Katsuki lifted his foot to take a step he felt a phantom chain wrapped around it.

"That's none of your business," Katsuki snapped, "and this conversation is over."

He turned on his heel and walked away. He didn't want to think about it. He didn't like thinking about it, because then he'd think about the little time he'd had with Deku, holding onto him, palm pressed to skin.

And then he would think about—

"Wait. Bakugou."

"I said this conversation was over," Katsuki told him stiffly. He turned a little. "There's problems. I'm dealing with them."

"Was… it true?"

Katsuki didn't like the look on Todoroki's face. The tone of his voice. The way he said _was it true_ , like there was a piece of the puzzle Katsuki was missing. As if Katsuki was going to miss anything about Deku ever again.

"Did— was Akatani working with them? The League?"

Katsuki choked, but Todoroki looked completely serious as he walked closer so they stood, face-to-face. "How can— where did… how would you fucking believe that?"

"I saw him," Todoroki said, "when he followed you. It looked like he was working with them, with the villains."

Katsuki couldn't help it. He cocked back a fist and hit Todoroki right in the face with a satisfying sting in his knuckles. Todoroki stumbled back, but when he turned, cheek red, Katsuki saw the cold fury in his eyes.

"Don't you dare say that to me again!"

Todoroki breathed. Katsuki noted how his foot shifted back, the minute curl of his fingers and twisted to the side as Todoroki missed. He felt his anger roll into another hit that echoed the roaring in his ears. The temperature dropped, but Katsuki got in close before Todoroki could use his Quirk.

A force slammed into him from the side before Katsuki could react. He hissed through gritted teeth, but Kirishima didn't flinch as he dragged Katsuki backwards, faltering explosions pulsing against hardened skin.

"Let me—"

He lunged, but Kirishima caught him again as Katsuki struggled against him. Iida—damn Iida—stepped in to pull Todoroki gently away from the scene. Just seeing his face made Katsuki want to pummel it in. Katsuki was being irrational. He was letting his anger take control. Fine. Fine. _Fine._

"Say that again! Say that again! He wouldn't, say that again!"

The control left him all in an instant, like the air had been hooked from his lungs. Katsuki shifted his gaze to meet Aizawa-sensei's.

"What do you think you're doing?"

Katsuki trembled. Kirishima didn't say anything, but his grip was tight enough that Katsuki knew he'd have to struggle to break free. His hands were warm but rough, threatening.

Todoroki dropped his hand. Katsuki glared across the room as if he could make Todoroki disappear—he couldn't make the words undeliver themselves, but he could make Todoroki answer for them.

When no one answered, Iida spoke. "We heard the fight and came running. Todoroki and Bakugou were at each others' throats."

Aizawa-sensei looked between the two of them. His face was stern and severe, but Katsuki didn't care.

"I expect better from both of you," he said in that tone that told Katsuki a lecture was coming. Katsuki bristled, but Aizawa-sensei's eyes flashed. "The _last_ thing we need is a fight between two classmates that could endanger others, are we clear?"

"Yes, sensei," Todoroki said automatically. He seemed to have calmed down.

"Whatever," Katsuki spit out.

Kirishima put a hand on Katsuki's chest and shoved him back a step.

"Calm down," he murmured, "bro, calm down. You're not thinking straight."

Katsuki wanted to snap that he was thinking just fine. He turned his attention back to his teacher and ground his teeth.

"You didn't hear what he said about—"

"Enough. Bakugou, walk it off. Todoroki, come with me."

Katsuki snarled. "You're just going to let what he said about Deku slide?"

Aizawa-sensei clenched his jaw. "I'm not letting anything _slide_ , Bakugou. Both of you will be punished. Kirishima, go with him—I'll find you two later, understood?"

"Come on, man," Kirishima pleaded. "Let's go. Whatever he said— let's go."

He tugged Katsuki away. They walked together, Kirishima waving off other concerned faces who were popping up.

"I'm not going to say—"

"Then don't."

"Okay," Kirishima said. He stopped. "Earlier. You were… it was like you were glowing."

That was the first moment Katsuki had felt anything except for the burning rage that had consumed him.

"Glowing?"

"You didn't see?"

Katsuki stopped. He looked at his hands, let his Quirk flare. It felt different. Heat raced through his arms, and Katsuki slammed his fingers into his palms, smoke hissing through the gaps as he extinguished his power.

Kirishima hovered over him. "Hey, are you… okay?"

He didn't particularly feel like sharing. But it was just Kirishima, and Katsuki felt like he hadn't talked to anyone in days, weeks, so he said, "No."

"You know, uh," Kirishima started, then cleared his throat. He shot Katsuki a tentative smile. Sincere. "You can talk to any of us. If you need to."

"..Thanks."

"So how— _are_ you feeling?" Kirishima glanced at him, then quickly added, "But you don't have to talk about it. I get it, man. But uh, everyone's been kinda worried."

"Everyone keeps asking about my damn feelings!" Katsuki burst. He scooped up a rock and lobbed it down the concrete, watching it hit the ground hard. "That's what I hate. It's not about how _I'm_ feeling!"

Kirishima faltered. Katsuki scrubbed at his face. He knew it'd been a bad idea to come, to get himself into trouble. Iida had good intentions, he was sure, but Katsuki was just going to keep fucking things up, it seemed.

"It's been a long week," Katsuki said heavily. He couldn't work up the energy to apologize. He probably should, but he didn't want to.

"Yeah."

"It's not about how I'm feeling," Katsuki said again, softer, "my f.. my friend is dying and there's nothing I can do about it. There was nothing I could do about it. It's not about how I'm feeling."

Kirishima put a hand on his shoulder. "Sometimes... sometimes that's the only place we have to start."


	42. Chapter 42

**Flare Signal** _  
interlude v — part two_

* * *

After a while, Kirishima stopped trying to get Katsuki to talk. The truth was that Katsuki didn't know how to talk about any of it—about Deku, about the League, the cold dark, the blood.

"You know," Kirishima offered, "a group of us were going to— we were going to go after you. To get you back while the heroes took care of everything else."

Katsuki stopped, surprised, and squinted at Kirishima. "Whose dumbass idea was that?"

Kirishima cleared his throat.

"A few of us," he said. Then he scratched his head. "I'm sorry we couldn't… be there, though. I think we should have been, at least so you wouldn't have been alone. But, uh… well, we kind of got caught."

Katsuki turned the new knowledge over in his head. Kirishima was looking at him like he was waiting for a response, like he was expecting Katsuki to explode into another outburst. Katsuki didn't.

"Good," he said finally, "you shouldn't have been there."

"I feel bad that we weren't," Kirishima admitted. His eyes were sad. "We weren't there when they took you. I know it was a stupid idea, but Bakugou—you… we were all scared, alright? We weren't there when they took you, so the least we could've done was be there when you got back. To get you back."

They'd come. His friends, his classmates. They'd come, or at least they'd tried to. It made Katsuki's throat close, just the thought of it, that he hadn't been alone that whole time. That he had people who'd been willing to throw themselves recklessly in danger on a stupid mission to rescue him and Deku, because it meant they cared.

He opened his mouth. Snapped it shut. Somehow Katsuki couldn't seem to find the words.

"You've got friends," Kirishima said gently. "I don't really know why I told you that when it didn't work out, but I guess I just mean to say that you weren't alone then and you're not now. That's all."

Kirishima ducked his head. He looked embarrassed, but then he raised his head back up to look at Katsuki. To show that he meant it.

"Don't try that again," Katsuki said sharply, and Kirishima bit his lip. "Don't—you're right, that sounded stupid, and if you'd come you might've been killed. And I'd lose more friends than I—"

He didn't know how to tell Kirishima how much it hurt. He'd lost Deku. Then he'd spent years shutting everyone out because he didn't want it to happen again, then opened up again. And just a few months later he'd found Deku, and then lost him. Again.

Kirishima sucked in air.

"But thank you for…"

Katsuki wiped at his nose with the back of his hand. Kirishima seemed to understand. He didn't try to push the conversation any farther, or hug Katsuki or something, which was good.

Footsteps alerted Katsuki to a newcomer. He and Kirishima both turned to see Aizawa-sensei striding towards them; Todoroki, though, was nowhere in sight. He nodded at them.

"Kirishima, Bakugou."

"Sensei," they both greeted. A hot flush of shame rose in Katsuki, but he refused to be cowed by it, instead dipping his head in his teacher's direction.

"I'll take your place if you don't mind," Aizawa-sensei told Kirishima, "go join the others."

Kirishima saluted him. He waved at Katsuki, passing him a look that carried a hundred conversations in two seconds, and then disappeared. Katsuki watched his back retreat and wondered what he'd done to deserve him.

"I haven't decided on your punishment." Aizawa-sensei was straight to the point. Katsuki had always liked that about him. "But you and Todoroki are going to do it together. I think there's some preparation work I could set you two to doing for the next school year that I wouldn't mind making you do."

"Yeah. Okay."

Aizawa-sensei thought for a moment.

"You know Deku wouldn't ever be a villain by choice," Katsuki blurted. He needed Aizawa-sensei to understand. "He never wanted any of it. It wasn't his fault."

Aizawa-sensei hesitated in responding, so Katsuki kept going. "You have to know that. He's a damn hero. He'd do anything to be a hero, and I know he probably doesn't think he deserves it, but that's all he ever wanted."

"...I know."

"Do you? That's why I did it," Katsuki said. He straightened his back. "And I can't apologize to Todoroki, if you want me to, because I'm not sorry for punching him."

During the fight, Katsuki really hadn't been thinking about anything outside of smashing Todoroki's face in. Now that he'd had some time, he didn't regret it, but he had lost the edge of anger that had driven him.

"You can apologize for jumping into a fight. Using your Quirks without supervision, attempting to harm a fellow student—regardless of the reasons, and potentially putting others in danger… do you understand what you did? What you could have done?"

Katsuki's mouth ran dry. "Yes," he whispered.

"If Iida and Kirishima hadn't pulled you two off of each other, or if I hadn't arrived in time. Bakugou, you and Todoroki are incredibly powerful. We don't need any more _kids_ in the hospital, alright?"

Aizawa-sensei looked him in the eye. Katsuki gritted his teeth. He was aware his hands were shaking, just slightly, so he clasped them together and wilted under Aizawa-sensei's gaze. He knew. He knew.

"I know."

"Good," Aizawa-sensei said. "And if it happens again… It won't happen again."

"No. It won't."

Aizawa-sensei took that. He squeezed Katsuki's shoulder, and now that his piece was done he seemed to soften.

"I know it's hard."

"Of course it's hard," Katsuki spat, suddenly bitter. "Of course it's hard! I'm trying…"

Aizawa-sensei reached for his shoulder. Katsuki let him grip it.

"Look at me, kid." Katsuki did. "You're going to get through it. And so is… Midoriya, because both of you have done it and you're strong. You get that?"

"You don't know. You can't know."

"I don't know," Aizawa-sensei said, "but I can believe."

Katsuki scuffed his foot against the ground. "I know he told you stuff, but… did he talk about… me?"

"He said you knew each other." Aizawa-sensei's mouth twisted. "He refused to say anything else, though. He didn't seem to want to talk about it."

"We grew up together," Katsuki admitted, "on the same street. Went to the same school. We played together, dreamed together. When we were kids, we said we were going to be heroes together."

"And here you are," Aizawa-sensei said lightly.

"So you have to understand I- I can't…"

"Come on."

"What?"

"Come with me, Bakugou."

"Where the— where are we going?" Katsuki followed Aizawa-sensei, jogging to catch up and floundering at the sudden change of pace. He couldn't tell what Aizawa-sensei was thinking as he led Katsuki out, tapping something on his phone to send out messages. When they got to Aizawa-sensei's car, Katsuki stopped.

"I'm not… where are you going? We can't just… leave."

"I'm your teacher. I can do whatever I want."

He trusted his teacher, but this felt like a different matter entirely. Aizawa-sensei would never do anything that would hurt Katsuki, at least, but he wasn't going anywhere without knowing where they were headed first. Aizawa-sensei paused, hand on the car door handle.

"Do you want to see him?"

Katsuki felt the world slip away under his feet. Aizawa-sensei opened the door, but Katsuki stood still. Deku. Aizawa-sensei wanted to take him to see Deku. Deku.

"I… you… they, I thought everyone said no one could visit. I thought—only you and Detective—"

Aizawa-sensei raised an eyebrow.

"I pulled a few strings." He patted the top of the car. "I was going to wait longer, if things changed for the better, but I think you need to see him. I contacted your parents a few days about it; they were fine with you doing whatever you like so long as you stay out of trouble and have someone keeping an eye on you. Come on."

The drive to the hospital was short but silent. Katsuki couldn't help but be jittery, bouncing his leg the entire way. It would be the first time he'd seen Deku since…

"I want to talk to you a moment before we go in."

The car had stopped. Katsuki fumbled with the seatbelt, then looked at Aizawa-sensei to show that he was listening.

"I'm sorry."

The seatbelt slid up. Katsuki paused. "For what?"

"There's been a lot happening, but I, as your teacher, should have talked to you more. About the situation with the League, and with Midoriya."

"If you're saying it's your fault—"

"The behavior you displayed today, the things I've been told… I'm seeing that I should have paid more attention to how you were feeling and if you were alright. So I apologize, because I didn't. And I don't think anyone did."

"You don't have to apologize." The words fell past numb lips. "I dealt. I'm dealing with it."

"It doesn't hurt to have help." Aizawa-sensei reached across the car seat to put a hand on his knee. "It doesn't hurt to let someone share your burden. We're the hero type—we like to take things on ourselves, but it's important to rely on other people once in a while. I am your teacher. I am the adult, not you, and I should have handled a situation with more than I did."

Katsuki didn't really want to hear it. But he did, and got it.

"Can we…"

Aizawa-sensei nodded. Katsuki trailed behind as they cleared through some security, then were checked in and examined another time before being really allowed through. They washed their hands, and then Katsuki was told to switch off his phone if he was going in. Katsuki eyed the security guards.

"Though the League's down for now after the defeat of their leader," Aizawa-sensei explained, "we can't take any chances. And we're unsure of-"

"Chimera?" Katsuki interrupted, after checking to make sure they were alone.

Aizawa-sensei nodded. "I can't tell you more than that. But they are concerning to us and pose a potential danger, so the security's to hopefully catch anyone trying to slip through the cracks."

Good. Katsuki hadn't known he'd needed to hear that Deku was being protected until Aizawa-sensei had told him—it made relief trickle in, like pouring sand.

Katsuki counted the rooms as he followed Aizawa-sensei. Here, it was quiet, broken only by their footsteps and some light activity.

"Here," Aizawa-sensei said, stopping outside a room. "No more than half an hour."

Now he was here, he didn't know if he could go in. Aizawa-sensei remained outside, leaning against the wall and watching him. Katsuki faltered. Then he steeled himself, and crossed the threshold.

It was dim in the room. That was the first thing Katsuki noticed; Deku would have liked the light, he thought.

He crossed the room to the foot of the bed and then stopped.

Deku looked awful. An understatement, but Katsuki didn't know how to process it. Paler than usual, and in sleep he looked smaller than he was. Standing strong, Deku had always seemed so bright with his presence that looking at him like this felt wrong.

Katsuki inched closer to the bed. He went around to the side, slumping into a chair. He wanted to say something, but couldn't disrupt the silence or get rid of what was stuck in his throat.

He tried to reconcile the images in his head with what he was seeing, but they were so far apart. Deku in his arms, _please stay with me, you promised I wouldn't be alone._ Deku now, drained of light and life.

Now Katsuki had the chance to see him, he saw the traces of the childhood friend he remembered. Illusions, disguises… whatever Deku had used before were all gone now. He could see freckles dotting Deku's face. Dark lashes, curved. He looked more like himself, but there was a gauntness that Katsuki felt. Lines in his face where there shouldn't have been.

"...Hey." He choked on air. He leaned over, peering into Deku's face, then drew back when he realized he was crying.

Katsuki was glad no one else was here to see it.

"Why did you do it?" Katsuki whispered. He gripped the bedrail, looked at Deku as if he could find answers in that sleeping face. He didn't need to look—he knew the answer. Because in the end it was Deku, and Deku would choose Kacchan over himself, and would walk into a snare if it meant suffering in others' stead, and would kneel, head down and teeth gritted to take on the weight of the world.

"You weren't supposed to—" He hit the rail, the metal echoing dully. "You weren't supposed to, we promised! We were getting out together!"

Frustrated tears built up then spilled over. Katsuki stood, gripping the railing, shouting. His breathing was harsh.

"I shouldn't have let you go," he said. He reached for Deku's hand, hesitated and then took it, fingers curling. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry I couldn't— I can't do what you asked, I'm sorry."

When Deku had looked up at them, eyes half-lidded and said, _Take me home, Kacchan._

When he'd said _Mom_ , so plainly, a simple yearning that spoke of years of heartache.

"I'm sorry," Katsuki repeated. "Please. Deku. Izuku. I don't think I can do it without you, please."

Deku was still. His hand was warm as Katsuki clasped it with both of his, crouching down by the hospital bed and pressing his forehead to the metal rail. Deku didn't wake up. He hardly even moved, or breathed. There was no magic. There was no movie moment; Deku didn't wake up, eyes opening to look at Katsuki.

"I don't know how… everything you gave me— I don't want it. I don't want any of it if it means losing you."

He stayed there, shaking, holding Deku's hand for a long while. He stayed there until Aizawa-sensei stepped into the room, putting a hand on Katsuki's shoulder and drawing him gently away from the hospital bed and the empty person sinking into it. Katsuki kept his head down. He was sure he looked like a mess, but Aizawa-sensei didn't seem to care.

"We can't stay longer," Aizawa-sensei said, pushing Katsuki along, "but I'm working on seeing if we can figure out a schedule to get you to visit more, at least a few more times."

"Thanks."

"I went outside to contact Gran Torino while you were here. He told me he had time this afternoon if you want to see him after lunch—if you're ready to talk to him. If not, he'll be busy for a while. Detective Tsukauchi's swamped in paperwork, though."

"Did he ask why I…"

"I told him it was related to Akatani."

"Yeah," Katsuki said. He cleared his throat. Aizawa-sensei didn't know all of Izuku's secrets, or Katsuki's, but he knew enough. "Yeah, it's… it's about Deku. I just need to talk to him."

"Do you want to see him today?"

Katsuki mulled it over. He thought of Deku, bandaged, connected to a thousand wires and machines that was keeping him alive even if barely. Thought about how Deku had looked at him and made him _promise._

"Yeah."

Aizawa-sensei made a quick call. His voice was low as they walked out of the hospital doors, ushered out by security, and when he was done he nodded at Katsuki.

"You can meet him at U.A. later," he said, "I'll take you back—we may as well get started with your punishment."

"Cleaning the school?"

Aizawa-sensei huffed. "For now you're going to start by sorting papers. And then you're going to organize stuff so I don't have to."

Even as a punishment, Katsuki was grateful to be put to work. Without volunteering today, he felt like he needed something monotonous to do so he could think, and it was nice feeling useful.

At U.A., the school was deserted now that everybody had left, but Todoroki was in the storage room already surrounded by stacks of paper. He looked up from his work, sitting cross-legged on the floor.

"Aizawa-sensei," he greeted, then saw Katsuki. "...Bakugou."

Aizawa-sensei ran a critical eye over Todoroki's work. He gestured at a set of filing cabinets. "Get rid of anything here that doesn't seem relevant. Old event flyers, copies of student papers, any of it—most of these we have saved as files electronically, so we don't need much of this anymore. And they're out of order, so sort it chronologically when you're finished. I'll be back in an hour."

Katsuki picked a random cabinet, opened a drawer, and began sorting. He really wasn't sure why the teachers had kept any of the papers. There were a few old records that he found, notes, but otherwise it was all junk.

"Bakugou."

Katsuki stopped. He and Todoroki were sitting with their backs toward each other, so he couldn't see Todoroki's face.

"If you're going to—"

"I wasn't going to do anything except… apologize." A rustle of papers. "I should have been more sensitive to your situation. And I shouldn't have encouraged the fight."

"I'm not sorry for punching you," Katsuki said flatly, "in case you had any wrong ideas. But we could probably talk instead of me wiping the floor with you."

Todoroki snorted quietly. "We're talking now."

"We're talking now, I guess," Katsuki agreed uneasily. He was wary of the tentative olive branch Todoroki had extended, but he had to take it. There wasn't any point in doing otherwise.

"You didn't wipe the floor with me."

"I kind of did," Katsuki said, and for some reason, he nearly smiled.

"Look—"

"Don't turn around," Katsuki broke in. "Don't look at me."

"I won't," Todoroki replied. He seemed to get that, at least. Katsuki didn't think they'd be able to talk if they were facing each other. He didn't think they'd be able to admit to vulnerability if they were looking each other in the eye. "Bakugou, I… I didn't mean to imply that Akatani would have— he's my friend. Aizawa-sensei told me that what he did was probably to protect me. I thought he was leaving me."

Katsuki crushed the paper he was holding in his hand. It crumpled easily.

"I don't know how to say this," Katsuki said slowly, "but he means more to me than you could ever… than you know. And he would _never_ be a villain if he could help it. So I punched you in the face because you dared to even think otherwise, because _we're_ not friends."

"I'm sorry."

"Whatever," Katsuki muttered. He stared at the ground. "I get it. I started the fight."

The truth was— he kind of _did_ get it. Katsuki didn't know what Todoroki had seen before he and Deku had disappeared, but he'd bet it wasn't anything that painted Deku in a good light. If he'd been anyone else, he might have given in to the doubt.

And… before he'd known, Katsuki had, too.

Hadn't he turned away from Deku? Hadn't Katsuki called him a liar, feeling the lance of betrayal slide right between his ribs, right through the chinks in his armor?

He'd spat in Shigaraki's face and told him to go to hell. That Akatani wasn't a villain, and that he wouldn't be. It had almost been true, the fog descending, and then a familiar knocking pattern broke through it.

 _Kacchan, it's me._

Katsuki tore the next paper in half. And again.

Maybe it was because Katsuki was tired of fighting now, or the anger had all gone, or it was finally the right time after seeing Deku. Maybe it had been looking into Deku's face, remembering all those years in-between that made the beginning of forgiveness slip into his chest.

"It's not my story to share," Katsuki muttered. He heard Todoroki shift behind him and knew he was listening. "It's not my story to share, so I'm not going to, and I don't want to. But he's my friend, and he means— he was… Akatani was going to die, for me. He still might. And what he went through was worse than you could ever think about him."

Todoroki sucked in a sharp breath.

"It isn't fair for anyone to call him a villain," Katsuki said, "because that's not what he is to me."

"I… understand," Todoroki murmured. "I do care. I don't know how to… show that, but I do."

"You could start by working faster," Katsuki quipped. "These cabinets aren't organizing themselves."

"You haven't done anything in the last few minutes either."

Katsuki closed his hand around the paper he'd torn and disintegrated it into ash.

"I'm a human incinerator," he said, "I'm getting rid of paper."

He turned a little, and so did Todoroki. " _You're_ the human incinerator."

"Do you want to argue, Todoroki?"

Todoroki lit his arm on fire, looked Katsuki right in the eye, and held a piece of paper over it. It burned, disappearing under his fingers.

"See," Todoroki said. He didn't smile, but the ghost of it passed over his face. Like the balance between them had shifted, or like the both of them were stumbling to get their feet under them after an earthquake and had finally gotten there. Katsuki felt like he was standing, arms spread out, on new ground.

"We're not friends," Katsuki bit out.

"We're not friends," Todoroki agreed, and burned another piece of paper. Katsuki's hands popped. They would have to clean up the remains after, but Katsuki couldn't help himself.

He shut off his Quirk, reeled back on the racing fire and cutting it off from air when he remembered. Todoroki dropped his gaze. The moment ended, and they went back to their work in silence, even if the silence was more comfortable than it had been before.

 _You have to try,_ Auntie Inko said after the Sports Festival, _maybe he's more like you than you know._

Mic-sensei dropped by for a visit when it was time for lunch. He handed them both plastic-wrapped sandwiches, and Katsuki and Todoroki thanked him quietly. Mic-sensei didn't leave, though, opting to join them in sitting on the floor. He had them practicing English as he shared a story from his own high school days. Katsuki only understood about half of it, but it sounded like Mic-sensei had gotten into quite a bit of trouble.

Mic-sensei got a little bit too loud near the end of the story, but he was interrupted. Aizawa-sensei leaned against the doorway.

"Shouta!" Mic-sensei beamed. "I was just telling them about the garbage incident—"

He continued speaking, voice muffled by Aizawa-sensei's capture weapon.

"Bakugou."

That was all they needed. Katsuki stood. He stepped carefully around the room and joined Aizawa-sensei.

"Todoroki, you're done for the day unless you want to stay. Mic, if you say another word I'll come back and strangle you."

Mic-sensei gave him a thumbs up. Todoroki nodded but remained where he was.

Katsuki and Aizawa-sensei left the room. Gran Torino was waiting for him down the hall, still dressed in his hero costume. He waved when he saw them approach. He was exactly like Deku described and exactly like Katsuki remembered. Old, but sharp-eyed. He wasn't someone to mess with.

"You wanted to talk to me, eh?"

Gran Torino and Katsuki went into the teacher's lounge, deserted and empty. Gran Torino shuffled over to the coffee pot and helped himself before sitting down across from Katsuki.

"Alright. Let's cut to the chase. What do you want?"

Katsuki worked his jaw, suddenly nervous. But Deku trusted Gran Torino, even if he was a little strange, and he'd said All Might did, too. If they both believed in him, then Katsuki had to as well.

He opened his hands in front of him.

"My Quirk is Explosion," he said to start. Katsuki clenched his hands into fists, then opened them again. Smoke poured upwards as he let loose a small set of explosions.

"What—"

Power surged down his arms. Katsuki felt his wrists heat as liquid fire poured through them and into his hands. Light leaked through his fingers, then raced up his arm, a strange and uncomfortable pressure building. Katsuki wrestled it back in when it became too much, and then his Quirk sputtered. He closed his hands sharply, and it stopped and faded slowly. He looked up at Gran Torino. He would know what Katsuki meant.

A set of beady eyes squinted at him, then narrowed further. The gaze in them was intense, but Katsuki didn't back down.

"He gave it to you."

Katsuki swallowed. This time he looked away when he spoke. "Yeah."

Gran Torino hissed through his teeth. He leaned back, crossed his arms over his chest, and said a few swear words. He looked over Katsuki and swore again.

"He trusts you enough then," Gran Torino said. He reached for his coffee and knocked it back. "God— damn, kid. Damn."

"I can't really control it," Katsuki admitted. "It's like I just… gah, lose my grip on it." He'd never had much trouble with his own Quirk, but this was different. This was the kind of power that All Might wielded, enough to change the weather. This was the kind of power Deku had held onto, the earth-shattering magnitude of it too much for Katsuki to bear.

"Broken any bones?"

"...No?"

Gran Torino drew a hand over his face. He was obviously deep in thought, and troubled.

"This is just the kind of thing he would do, huh." He laughed suddenly. "He and All Might—they're just alike. One and the same, the two of them."

Katsuki was surprised when a laugh jolted out of his throat. "He's an idiot."

"So you want me to teach you," Gran Torino said. He cleared his throat. Katsuki sighed. "All Might's out of the question for now, and Akatani…"

"I wanted to ask you what I'm supposed to do next," Katsuki said, "because I'm flying blind, and I don't know shit."

Gran Torino tapped his fingers on the mug.

"I don't want it," Katsuki said, "I don't want it, you know that? I took it because— I took it because I promised I would, just in case and because he said I could give it back. He said I might need it."

Gran Torino huffed. There was that funny half-smile still on his face.

"You're going to have to keep it for now," Gran Torino told him, "there's no other way around it. If he trusted you to keep it, he chose you for a reason, and passing on One for All is no easy thing."

"I feel like taking it… keeping it means I'm— I'm giving up on him. I'm not. I wouldn't."

"I'll help you learn to control it," Gran Torino said after a moment, "so you don't accidentally blow up something you're not supposed to. But if you don't want to keep it, you're just going to have to give it back when that boy wakes. Got it?"

He sounded so sure that Katsuki was comforted. Like it wasn't a question that Deku was going to wake up, just a matter of when he would.

"Thanks, Gran Torino."

"Do you want me to tell All Might?"

"Tell All Might?"

"That you have One for All. Do you want him to know?"

"He has to, doesn't he?" Katsuki said. He locked his fingers together. "He deserves to know. It was his Quirk, too."

"Alright, kid," Gran Torino said, "I'll tell him next time I see him. Heavens know how he'll react. Good thing he's stuck in a hospital bed—he's already enough trouble right now, putting up a fight 'cause he doesn't want to be there. Hmph."

"Thank you, Gran Torino." Katsuki held his gaze and tried to convey how much it meant to him. "I mean it."

That afternoon, Katsuki let himself into an empty apartment with bags of groceries hanging off his arm. He put the meat and vegetables in the fridge, hefted a new bag of rice through the door to put away. He helped clean the kitchen, washing a few dishes that had been in the sink and wiping down the counter. On the corner, a little All Might stood, hands on his hips as his painted cape billowed behind him.

He went down the hall to Deku's room and pushed it in. And though Katsuki was tired, he dusted off the table and the shelves, redid the bed until it was neat, swept. When the room was clean, Katsuki's hands felt raw, but the cleaning had been cathartic. Like he was chasing away the last shadows from the floorboards.

He sat on the edge of the bed. In his hands he took down the medal from the Sports Festival and the picture of him and Deku and felt like he was looking at something bigger. Then Katsuki waited for Auntie Inko and Deku to come home.


	43. Chapter 43

**Flare Signal** _  
interlude v — part three_

* * *

Katsuki hit the ground hard, shoulder slamming against the mat. He didn't have time to catch his breath, rolling to the side as a foot came down where his head had been just moments ago.

"Come on."

He tried to focus. His head was swimming, but Katsuki gritted his teeth and pulled himself off the ground. He spun on his heel, arms raised, and let his explosions pour from his palms. Gran Torino sprang over his head, chuckling, but when Katsuki turned again he saw a smile on the retired hero's face.

"I don't like losing," Katsuki ground out, and Gran Torino tilted his head, looking at Katsuki with glittering eyes.

"Well, punk," Gran Torino said, cracking his knuckles, "you're going to have to get used to it."

He shot off faster than Katsuki could keep up with. Katsuki brought his arms up, but Gran Torino was there. Hit. The frustration built. Hit. A rush of light tore from his hands as he fell back. Hit. Katsuki felt something shift in him as he pulled his arms back and rammed them forward.

Gran Torino hit the opposite wall hard. He dropped, seemingly only stunned for a moment before he was on his feet again.

"Good," he called across the room as Katsuki looked at his hands. That hadn't felt like his usual explosions. That blast of power, the pulse of air around him—that was One for All. "We're done for the day."

"But—"

"We're done." Katsuki knew the fight was over as Gran Torino rolled his shoulders back and ran a critical eye over him. "Not bad."

Katsuki chewed on his lip. "I don't think I'm getting any better."

And Gran Torino was, admittedly, a tough opponent to beat. He looked like somebody's grandpa Katsuki could beat up with his bare hands until he moved, quick as lightning with movements sharper than any weapon.

"Your control's unstable," Gran Torino pointed out. Katsuki didn't need him to say it. "And One for All responds to your own… volatility."

Katsuki growled. He didn't exactly have a good grasp on One for All. Gran Torino was right; he couldn't control it. Instead it seemed to fluctuate and burst from him, and it didn't respond every time Katsuki wanted it to.

All Might made it look easy. Deku struggled, but the first time Katsuki had seen him, light crackling around his form—it was like it had become a part of him.

Deku described One for All as an endless ocean. Rolling, crashing waves. To Katsuki it was the opposite. A raging forest fire, burning with an intensity that didn't necessarily hurt but was still all-encompassing.

"Did the… others have problems like this?"

Gran Torino pursed his lips, thinking. He gestured with his hands. "Every wielder is different. Nana used to have trouble controlling the scope of her attacks. T- All Might was a natural, but he had to grow into his legacy. And the power itself, in the beginning, was too much for Akatani—he couldn't handle the sheer weight of it, and he struggled making it a part of himself."

Katsuki scratched the back of his neck. "So what's _my_ problem?"

"Your problem."

Katsuki kicked at the floor. "I can't control it. Okay. Whatever. How do I fix it?"

"You're not treating it right," Gran Torino told him, and Katsuki scowled. What the hell did that mean? "Akatani entrusted One for All to you. He chose you. His reasons are a different matter I suspect, but the fact stands that he wanted _you_ to have it."

His throat closed.

 _You have to promise me, Kacchan._

He bit down on the ruined inside of his cheek and tasted blood. Warm copper in his mouth. His blood. Deku's blood.

"Whatever," he grit out, "I'll see you tomorrow."

Gran Torino shot over him, smacking the back of Katsuki's head before disappearing halfway out the door. His parting words followed him. "Just think about it."

"Just think about it," Katsuki muttered, changing his voice to mimic Gran Torino's. "Fuck you, old man."

He pulled himself together. Katsuki changed clothes in the locker room, frowning at the still-healing bruises of the last few fights. He'd head home after this, get himself a proper shower—then maybe go for a walk.

Katsuki checked the time. Maybe he'd go for his walk before heading back; then he wouldn't get all sweaty after his shower. A part of an idea formed in his head, and Katsuki grabbed his things—water bottle, keys, phone, wallet—before jogging from the school grounds.

Dagobah Beach, surprisingly, was less busy than Katsuki expected. A few families had come to play in the water, but other than that it was fairly empty. Katsuki picked up a discarded soda can, tossing it in the trash and surveying the clean sands.

No water today, Katsuki decided. He found a secluded spot and parked himself in the sand. The waves lapped quietly against the shore, a soft rushing sound the background to his thoughts.

His days had fallen into a new routine. In the mornings, he would go to U.A. and sort papers and files with Todoroki. Sometimes they talked, but most times they worked in silence. In the afternoons, he would train with Gran Torino, struggling to use One for All. When he had time, he'd circle around to the food bank. Once a week, for half an hour, Aizawa-sensei would take him to see Deku.

And life moved on.

He watched a wave pull in then back out, the sand dark and smooth under it. The pale crests of shells poked out, gleaming in the sun. He'd liked collecting them when he was younger, fascinated by the patterns and the curved shapes they'd made.

Katsuki woke up every morning still. The world kept turning. He kept going.

Every time he took a step forward it was away from that dark pit in Kamino. He squinted at the sun and felt the saltwater wash over his wounds, stinging but clean.

His phone buzzed. Katsuki sank his fingers into the warm sand and felt grit catch in his fingernails. He didn't check it for another minute, soaking in the feeling, and then reached for his phone.

A message from Detective Tsukauchi. Simple and to the point.

He texted back and then decided that he had to be at least somewhat presentable—he couldn't look like a complete slob, so Katsuki headed home for a shower and another, fresher change of clothes. Mom yelled as usual when he got home, but she stood watching him go down the hall longer than he was used to. A silent way of caring. He was never really home these days.

An hour later Detective Tsukauchi knocked on the door. Katsuki nodded, bowing a little as his guest stepped inside.

"Who's here?" came distantly from the other room.

"Detective Tsukauchi!" Katsuki hollered back. He opened the door wider, trying to smile as Detective Tsukauchi took off his hat, then his shoes. Mom appeared from the kitchen.

"Why didn't you tell me he was coming?"

"I told you yesterday!"

"You didn't tell me shit!"

Katsuki craned his head. He could just see her in the hallway. "Well, he's— here!"

He huffed, crossing his arms. Detective Tsukauchi stood politely, and Katsuki suddenly remembered not every family was like his. He cleared his throat. They got each other, and they sometimes got along, and that was that.

Katsuki led the detective to the study, shutting the doors for privacy and hoping Mom wouldn't poke her nose into their business.

"I'm afraid I don't have much time," Detective Tsukauchi said. He smiled in apology.

"You're fine," Katsuki said shortly, throwing himself into the opposite chair. Though Detective Tsukauchi sat formally, hands folded over each other, Katsuki kicked his feet up, not bothering about decorum.

"I'd like to talk about," Detective Tsukauchi started, lifting a gloved hand to wave, "Kamino, if you would, and the League of Villains."

"Paperwork and shit, huh?"

He smiled. "That's correct, yes, though Aizawa mentioned to me you wanted to talk to me about… Akatani."

"Right. But you first." It was different, though, with Detective Tsukauchi. Katsuki knew he was a good guy, sure—if All Might trusted him, then hell to whatever Katsuki thought. But he was still a detective, a policeman, and a lie detector; though Katsuki had no lies to tell he found himself still nervous. That coat had a lot of secret-hiding pockets.

Mom banged in with all the grace of a charging bull. Katsuki snapped at her for interrupting and almost spilling the tea she was carrying. She set it down, shook Detective Katsuki's hand, then smacked the back of Katsuki's head for not being more hospitable to their guest.

"Your tea sucks," Katsuki hissed.

Mom smiled at Detective Tsukauchi, then said, "Well, you should've made it yourself then, brat."

"Thank you for the tea," Detective Tsukauchi said, "I appreciate the gesture, though there's really no need. Your son and I are getting right to business, if you will."

"Sure. Sure." Mom gave Katsuki a look that meant, _don't fuck up with a guest,_ and Katsuki shot her one back like, _shut up, I can handle it._ She smiled again then left.

"Just a few questions," Detective Tsukauchi said. Katsuki was surprised they hadn't gotten into contact earlier for the investigation, but it was probably because they'd both been otherwise preoccupied. Now Detective Tsukauchi asked Katsuki about what he remembered.

He recounted the different villains in the order of who deserved to be punched more, then described what they'd said and done. It was frustratingly unhelpful. Katsuki hadn't even known about the true leader of the League until Deku had whispered it to him, nor any of their plans beyond Katsuki's hopeful recruitment. After they'd locked him up, they focused their energy elsewhere, maybe sensing a lost cause until Deku had come barrelling in.

The conversations with Deku Katsuki kept brief. Short. Detached. He hardly felt like talking about their relationship or about the things they had said in that cell with anyone, much less a detective. And it wasn't fair to Deku to say anything without him, so Katsuki summarized things as briefly and vaguely as possible, delving only into what Deku had said about Shigaraki and All for One.

When it was all over, Katsuki found himself drained. He drank the now-cold tea even though Mom always used the packaged stuff and brand Katsuki hated but she liked. Detective Tsukauchi was scribbling the last of his notes.

"Thank you, Bakugou," he said, "this was very helpful."

"Sure," Katsuki grunted.

"It was," Detective Tsukauchi said. His eyes held a serious quality to them. "Really."

"Telling the truth?"

"I don't lie myself," Detective Tsukauchi said lightly. "I don't suppose you get told that often."

"About… lying?"

"That you helped," Detective Tsukauchi said. Katsuki's breath caught. He supposed it was true he didn't, not that it meant anything. Not that it was supposed to mean anything. Katsuki looked away.

"You said you didn't have a lot of time."

Detective Tsukauchi checked. "I have enough. You wanted to speak to me about Akatani."

Katsuki glanced at the double doors of the study, making sure no one's lurking shadow was outside listening. Still, he lowered his voice, leaning forward.

"I've already talked to Gran Torino," he said, "about something, er, Deku _gave_ me. I was going to ask you for advice, but I won't really need it anymore unless you know something Gran Torino doesn't."

He wasn't sure if Detective Tsukauchi had been informed, but the man in question nodded smoothly. If he was surprised at all, it was smothered and hidden from Katsuki's perception.

"Gran Torino is a good person to go to," Detective Tsukauchi said, smiling secretly to himself, "better than me, anyway. He's a good mentor, even if his methods are… unconventional."

"Unconventional," Katsuki repeated. He saw something pass through Detective Tsukauchi's eyes, like he was flipping through page after page of memories Katsuki wasn't private to. Detective Tsukauchi only smiled wider.

"Is there anything else?"

The seriousness returned to him. "What's going to happen?"

"I don't know what you mean."

"To Deku. What's going to happen to him now that everything's… over?"

If Deku woke up, when he woke up, what would happen to him? Would they arrest him? Would they brand him villain when Katsuki had railed so hard against the very idea, paint the characters on his face so every person who met his eyes would see? Everything was over, but at the same time nothing was. Kamino had been an ending as much as it had been a beginning. All for One's defeat did not erase every problem that he had left, and though the poison had been removed its sickness was still creeping.

"We'll ask him to give any information that he thinks will be vital or necessary in order to add to our current investigation and efforts regarding the League and Chimera. There are a few tests we have to run as well." Detective Tsukauchi smiled. This one was soft, kind. He tilted his head. "But I don't think that's what you meant, was it? Now that everything's over, as you say, we're going to do our best to keep him safe as we assess the danger posed to him. We'll work out our next steps as he recovers… and then we're going to take him home."

Katsuki's mouth ran dry. He tried to shape the words on his tongue.

But how could he explain? How could he make form of the desperate way Deku had clutched at him, the breathy way he'd said _take me home, Kacchan_? How did Katsuki describe _home_? What it meant?

"I think… he would like that very much," Katsuki said slowly, "I think home has been a long time coming, for him."

Detective Tsukauchi nodded. In a very informal manner he reached across the table and grasped Katsuki's hand.

"I think it has, too," he said, "and I'll be very glad to help him there."

The next day Katsuki had something to bring to Deku—a little bit of hope. Aizawa-sensei let Katsuki go first, though he hovered in the room this time as Katsuki sat in the familiar chair next to the bed. He told Deku quietly what Detective Tsukauchi had told him, aware of his teacher watching, then told him one of the old memories that were starting to dredge themselves up to the surface.

When they were eight, they'd broken one of Auntie Inko's vases and panicked. She'd forgiven them in an instant after making sure none of them had been hurt by broken pottery shards. It was just a vase, she'd told them, nothing compared to her precious boys. Both Deku and Katsuki had felt pretty bad about it. Carefully under her watch they'd pieced the thing back together—less _kintsugi_ and more glitter glue.

Katsuki was leaning over the bed when he thought he saw Deku's fingers twitch. A spark of green light danced between them, then vanished. He drew back, unsure.

"Bakugou?" Aizawa-sensei asked, moving closer. He stopped at the foot of the bed. "What's wrong?"

"I," Katsuki released breathlessly, "I thought I saw—"

He didn't want to say it. Maybe it'd been a trick of the light, or Katsuki's own fueled hopes and imagination.

"I thought I saw him move."

Both Katsuki and Aizawa-sensei fixed their gazes on Deku, waiting. There was no sign of movement. Nothing that had indicated a change. But Katsuki had _seen_ it, the lift of fingers, the light of his Quirk. He'd seen it.

Katsuki was about to give up hope that he really had been wrong when Deku's eyes opened. Everything stilled. He could hear his blood rushing in his ears.

He couldn't tear his eyes away. He couldn't breathe. There had been a moment before, but now Katsuki was in the after as Deku's eyes drifted towards them.

It took effort. Katsuki forced his numb lips to move. "Deku?"

Deku met his gaze. There was a moment of clarity in Deku's eyes, and the crinkling of fabric registered to Katsuki as Deku slid his hand weakly across the bed. He couldn't make it all the way, but Katsuki slipped his own hand into Deku's and felt fingers close around his.

He squeezed once. He felt like— like—

"Deku?"

But Deku's eyes slid shut again. Aizawa-sensei said something, but Deku didn't wake up again. He was back to the way he looked before, all quiet, but Katsuki looked at their joined hands and knew it had been real. The moment had happened. The air rushed back into his lungs. Katsuki couldn't make himself let go.

A nurse entered, followed by Aizawa-sensei. She flitted over the bed. Katsuki couldn't let go of Deku's hand, but Aizawa-sensei pressed down heavy on his shoulder and Katsuki did.

"But," he said.

"We'll come back," Aizawa-sensei promised.

They shuffled from the hospital room. Katsuki didn't know if he was floating or if he was chained to the ground. They made their way to the cafeteria; Aizawa-sensei ordered a black coffee and drank it hot, kicking it back like it was something stronger.

"You called him Deku."

There was an odd tone to his voice. Katsuki immediately disliked it. Defense rose in him, and Katsuki ground his teeth together.

"What's it to you?" he snapped, crossing his arms over his chest. It was Katsuki's name, born of spite or anger but kept after the animosity had died—as a reminder, as something different, perhaps.

Aizawa-sensei shook his head. "Nevermind," he said, though Katsuki suddenly had a burning desire to know the interest the name had caught in Aizawa-sensei.

"Sensei," Katsuki pressed.

"Don't concern yourself with it," Aizawa-sensei replied, and his tone had changed to something more recognizable: _back off._ Katsuki did, but the curiosity had not gone, only hidden now.

Katsuki sprawled with his head resting in the crook of his arm, cheek against the table.

He replayed the moment in his head. There was so much. There was so much, fear and pain battling with rising hope, all of a whirling storm in Katsuki's head. He turned his head, shut his eyes to press them against his arm. Aizawa-sensei's hand settled itself on his shoulder again, and though his teacher said nothing Katsuki felt his thumb dragging the dread from him.

Shadows. Katsuki stirred, blinking against the darkness. He found he could see. And he could see shadows in the shape of men, standing, watching, as the room faded from view.

He was dreaming. Katsuki was sure of it in that strange way that dreams sometimes showed themselves. Light sparked, and Katsuki realized it was coming from himself.

 _Glowing,_ Kirishima had said. Like holding starlight. Standing still and quiet in front of him nine figures blinked, ghosts of a different time. Katsuki didn't need to know them in order to _know_ them. One for All.

 _Bakugou Katsuki._

His name sounded like an accusation. Katsuki stepped forward, searching shadowed faces. Most he didn't recognize. There were two in the back, blocked from view that Katsuki could just barely make out—different, faded somehow.

"All Might?"

He stepped forward. Pushed through the ghosts and saw them part like a black curtain of smoke. Katsuki's heart hammered in his chest as he took another step forward, then began to walk faster and faster.

The distance stretched and pulled between them. Katsuki fixed his gaze on the last two.

All Might. It _was_ All Might, the way Katsuki had seen him, all tall and bony. He had his back turned to Katsuki, and even when Katsuki called his name he didn't move. He was standing next to another silhouetted figure, the two of them looking at each other. The air left Katsuki's lungs.

"Deku!"

He stumbled. The dream warped and shifted, the figures becoming more and more distant as Katsuki shouted again. All Might faded from view. Katsuki ran faster. Deku turned, and a pair of gleaming eyes met his—

" _...Deku?"_

 _He didn't dare breathe. All he could see was that familiar face, those eyes. Katsuki had seen him all year._

 _Akatani. Not Akatani, not Akatani at all, but Deku. Deku who had been gone, Deku whom Katsuki had last seen all those years ago, Deku whose picture Katsuki had kept in his wallet to remember—_

 _Deku held his gaze. He'd thought it was strange, the feeling that they'd met before. Now he knew why. It was him._

 _It had always been him._

" _Kacchan."_

 _Katsuki tried to find the right words. It was like cupping water in his hands and trying to drink, but nothing touched his parched throat. He choked on the feeling._

 _He'd spent years thinking of this moment, but now that he was here he didn't know what to do. Maybe, he'd thought, Deku would knock on his window._ You there? _He would see Deku on the street or find him in a stroke of luck. Maybe Deku would walk back into his life as easily as he'd walked out of it._

" _Are you," Katsuki tried, "is this… it's really you?"_

 _Deku moved for the first time since Katsuki had told him to stop. He inched closer, then realized Katsuki was letting him and finally sat, close enough for their shoulders to touch as Katsuki mirrored him._

 _A hand reached across the distance. Katsuki didn't know if it was his or Deku's, just that suddenly fingers were pressing against his own._

" _It's— really you?" Katsuki whispered again. His voice cracked. He was scared if he said anything else or if he looked away that he would blink and Deku would disappear. He could hardly feel his heart pulsing against his ribs._

 _Deku. Older, different, sadder. But when Katsuki looked at him he thought he could see things he hadn't noticed before, or maybe that Deku had hidden before._

 _Deku smiled then. Only Deku would have._

" _Yeah." He squeezed Katsuki's hand. "It's… it's me."_

 _His voice was hollow. Like now that Katsuki was seeing him Deku didn't believe it himself._

" _Well, this is shit," Katsuki grumbled. He unfolded his legs from underneath him and leaned back. Deku barked out a surprised laugh, and the light flared in his eyes for a moment. Katsuki held onto it._

" _Yeah, it's not exactly how I wanted—" Deku broke off, then stared at the ground. He cradled his other hand against his chest. He was bleeding. "I'm—"_

— _sorry, Kacchan._


	44. Chapter 44

**Flare Signal** _  
chapter forty-four_

* * *

There were few memories from his childhood that were clear. What the body remembered stayed for reasons unknown to anyone.

Izuku remembered breaking his arm, though. Seven, full of that fearlessness that only kids had. Kacchan dared him to climb the tree in the schoolyard, so he had, hand over hand pulling him further into the branches. He'd glanced back just once and saw Kacchan still on the ground. Then he kept climbing, even when he probably should've stopped. He'd spent too long up there, so Kacchan had made to leave. Izuku kept going.

It was as close to flying as he'd gotten as a kid. There was some hunger in him to go higher. Peer through the branches, see the yellow light. The sunlight shone on Izuku's face, and he relished the feeling, tasted the air. A wildness that did not often show itself to Izuku, but one that existed nonetheless.

Then he'd fallen.

He'd jerked helplessly midair, reaching for something to grasp but finding nothing. The sky, spinning. Branches like arms surrounded him, spread wide to cradle his small body, but none caught him. There was just one moment, a split-second, but Izuku remembered it vividly for no reason at all—tumbling dizzily in the air, the tree around him tangling until he felt like he was falling through the sky.

The part Izuku had forgotten was the impact.

The falling. That was what being awake was like. The falling. All the colors blurred into each other. When Izuku tried to speak it was stilted and strange; his mouth could form the words, but nothing came out right. He couldn't control his body.

The part Izuku had forgotten was the impact, but he remembered the anticipation. For weeks after he'd woken violently, his body betraying him, still convinced he was a moment away from hitting the ground.

From the moment Izuku had woken up that was what it felt like. He was safe. But his body kept remembering the fall. The doctors, the nurses—they told him what he was feeling was normal. That he'd been hurt, that he was recovering. The day, the time, the hospital. He'd forget, but he'd remember the gap and feel the hopelessness grasp at him.

Better and worse. Better and worse.

When Izuku was well enough, Kacchan came. Izuku found it hard to look him in the eye.

"I heard you, you know," Izuku said quietly, staring at the foot of the bed, "when I was dreaming. Sometimes I heard your voice."

Kacchan heaved out a sigh. "Remember any shit I said?"

He shook his head. Just the sound of Kacchan's voice, the knowledge that he was there, but nothing else remained. Frustratingly, so did other parts of his memory—and no one seemed to want to tell Izuku about what filled those gaps.

 _It will come back to you_ , they told him. Like rain to the ocean.

The only thing Kacchan had told Izuku was that he knew—that Izuku had told him all of his secrets. Izuku only remembered flashes of darkness, of light, remembered an aching loneliness, and a piece of Kacchan's face. Strong arms around him. Someone humming a lullaby. He didn't remember much more than that.

"Hey," Kacchan said. Izuku looked up at him, then away. "You know it's… it's done. It's over now, all of it."

"I don't even know what all of it _is_ ," Izuku muttered. Kacchan put a hand between them, and Izuku took the offer. Kacchan squeezed when Izuku's fingers slipped into his.

"Just— wait," Kacchan said. He didn't seem to know what to say. He huffed, turning his head away a little, and Izuku heard some melancholic note in his voice when he continued, "just hold on a little longer, Deku."

"For what?" Izuku burst.

He was surprised at the volume of his own voice. Kacchan's hand jerked, but he didn't let go.

"Sorry," Izuku said when moving hurt, and settled back. Discomfort made him twist, trying to find a different position. "I'm just tired of… waiting. Waiting for what? For, for the heroes to march in and lock me up? For Hisashi to come back and take me away again? For myself to— remember?"

Kacchan didn't respond. Izuku lifted his free hand to wipe roughly at his eyes, then snuck a glance to the side. Kacchan worked his jaw in the way that meant he was thinking about it.

"You don't…" Kacchan said. His eyes went from sharp to sad in an instant. "You want to know what happened?"

"Please," Izuku begged.

Kacchan hesitated. It was a long enough pause for Izuku to understand that Kacchan wasn't going to tell him much if anything at all.

"You— nearly died," Kacchan said. He coughed. "You… you _did_. For a moment, when I…"

 _Izuku._ The hairs on the back of his neck rose. He saw Kacchan's face in his mind, colored by firelight, desperate and begging, _Izuku._ It was like seeing a dream.

"I'm sorry, Kacchan." It didn't seem like enough. Kacchan clutched his hand like a lifeline. Izuku tapped, _I'm alive._

An echo of pain shot through his side. He pressed his fingers lightly to the spot and jerked helplessly as his vision blurred. The part Izuku had forgotten was the impact. But his body remembered the fall. He hadn't been able to forget that.

"Deku?"

"I'm fine," Izuku said, but all the broken pieces were beginning to slowly fall together into a larger picture he didn't like. He'd spent the days dreaming of One for All, seeing the past in grey memory. The more he saw, the more horrified he'd been. He hadn't dreamed of Kamino, as Kacchan called it, but things began to trickle in.

"You gave me One for All."

Izuku paused. Stopped.

Kacchan's fingers tightened, and he said it again. Izuku looked, and their gazes met and held.

"Well," Izuku managed, voice failing him, "I'm glad I did."

"I'm not," Kacchan said. It was so sudden, so sure that it almost hurt. But Kacchan kept holding Izuku's gaze, eyes so intense he couldn't look away. "Take it back, Deku. It's not mine."

His voice died in his throat.

One for All.

"It's not… it's not that simple, Kacchan."

Izuku couldn't explain it. The memories were coming back to him, slotting into place. The weight of something draped over the back of his neck—a hand, connected to a man in a dark chamber, a face Izuku couldn't make out, a voice Izuku could not hear the words to. An invisible noose around his neck that only pulled tighter and tighter.

He couldn't _remember_ , but that didn't mean that Izuku didn't _know_. That he couldn't have One for All. That One for All could not stay with him any longer than it had to, because he didn't—

Because Izuku had grasped something in that darkness, at Kamino. And that something had smiled back.

"It's not rocket science, dipshit," Kacchan said. "I have One for All. I'm giving it back to you. That's it."

When Kacchan moved closer Izuku moved back. The movement, Izuku saw, was like a betrayal. Kacchan stopped.

"You don't… want it back."

"I can't," Izuku said. He was going to cry. He could feel it. "Kacchan, you don't understand, I can't take it back, I can't."

Kacchan tore a strand of hair from his head and held it out. "Deku."

He shook his head violently. Izuku thought he was going to be sick instead. Kacchan's eyes narrowed; there was anger there now, but Izuku knew it wasn't so much directed at him as it was from a place of misunderstanding.

"You don't, either," Kacchan said, "it's not my Quirk, Deku. You can— don't be dumb! You can, ugh, give it away to someone else. But it's yours. I don't get what you, why—"

Izuku started crying. It was unexplainable. Unavoidable.

"Shit," Kacchan swore, then again when Izuku couldn't stop. "Deku, Izu— shit, stop, stop, I'm sorry."

He put his hands on Izuku's shoulder while Izuku hiccuped. Izuku was trying to stop but found he couldn't.

"Shit," Kacchan said one more time, and Izuku wanted to cry harder. "I'm not going to… Deku."

He slipped forward and carefully set his hands around Izuku. It was the first time anyone had hugged Izuku since he'd woken up, the first time anyone had thought to touch him, hold him, gentle and careful. Izuku tucked his face into Kacchan's shoulder, not caring if anyone would walk in and see, and then cried more.

"You're okay," Kacchan whispered in Izuku's ear, "that matters."

Izuku sniffled. He turned and pressed his cheek to the damp place on Kacchan's shirt, shutting his eyes. Kacchan's hand drifted upwards. Comforting.

"I'm sorry," Izuku said.

"Stop apologizing," Kacchan grumbled. Izuku could feel his voice. "I'm sick of it. I'm just— glad you're here."

"I'm glad you're here, too." And the words didn't feel like they were enough to capture what Izuku meant. Like, _I'm glad you're here_ just as easily meant _I'm glad you're alive_ and _I'm glad we're together._

 _I'm glad you're on my side._ The meaning was intangible—a reunion of two friends after years of separation, a dream fulfilled.

"Think about it," Kacchan said, voice low and hesitant. He must have thought Izuku would listen to him now. "One for All belongs to you."

Izuku didn't say anything. He sighed, and Kacchan tapped his arm to keep his attention.

"I saw you."

"You saw… me?" Izuku breathed. He lifted his head, but Kacchan moved so he could press their foreheads together, so Kacchan could look him in the eye.

"I saw you," Kacchan said, "I saw all of them. One for All. I saw you in my dreams."

Like a thin gossamer line connecting them. Like string that lashed between the two, that drew them together and back again, that connected them across the deep, the time, the hurt.

"Please," Kacchan murmured, reaching between them. He took Izuku's hand and pressed the strand of hair into it. "Think about it, Deku."

Izuku curled his fingers in.

"You—" he cleared his throat, hearing his voice crack. "You just want to make me eat hair. Gross, Kacchan."

Kacchan flicked him between the eyes. Izuku twitched, and Kacchan laughed. It was the first time Izuku felt like he had heard the sound, so he stopped to watch as a slow, easy smile spread across Kacchan's face like it had always been there waiting.

"So what?" Kacchan said loudly. He grinned, and Izuku shoved him.

"Get out of here."

Kacchan dodged him, but he did get up. He tapped Izuku's knee, maybe sensing Izuku's disappointment that he had to go, then said, "Someone's here to see you."

"Someone…?"

Izuku's heart leapt in his throat. There was someone he wanted desperately to see, but it wasn't who stepped through the door.

Detective Tsukauchi smiled when he saw the two of them. _Kacchan,_ Izuku said, catching his hand. Kacchan tapped, _I'll be back,_ then untangled himself from Izuku. He nodded to the detective as he passed and left. Izuku's throat went tight, but he tried to smile.

"Hello, Midoriya."

"Detective," Izuku said, carefully eyeing his visitor. Izuku trusted him, and Kacchan had left seemingly unconcerned. Izuku watched warily as Detective Tsukauchi approached and took a seat next to his bed where Kacchan had just vacated. It didn't _look_ like Detective Tsukauchi had come for business; he was dressed less formally than usual, but still in a nice shirt and trousers, like he had come from work.

"I heard you were up and about," Detective Tsukauchi continued, "I'm glad you're awake. You had us all worried there for a while."

Izuku bit his lip. "Ri- right."

Detective Tsukauchi leaned forward. "I mean that, you know."

"Yeah."

"Unfortunately, I'm not here just to visit. There are a few things I think we should talk about now, like what's going to be happening over the next little while. You're going to be coming with me."

"With," the words were slow, "...with you?"

That wasn't what Izuku expected to hear.

Detective Tsukauchi nodded. "I'm sorry, Midoriya. It's just for the time being, I know it's not ideal, so I'm sorry. We—and I mean your teachers, a few other policemen involved in the investigation—would like you to be somewhere that's a little more secure than the hospital. I offered before to take you in since we'd talked about it, so…"

"No, that's…" Izuku realized he was staring. He looked down, twisting his hands unsteadily. "No, I appreciate it. Really. It's not, it's a lot better than I hoped for, really."

He hadn't known what to expect, to be honest. Of _course_ going home wasn't going to be an option. It was stupid to think it'd be safe or they would let him. Mom probably… Mom probably didn't even _know_ yet, and it was dangerous to think like that. It was bitterly disappointing.

But Izuku wasn't being arrested, not yet anyway. He wasn't being carted off to be imprisoned again. Hisashi was nowhere to be seen.

"It's only temporary," Detective Tsukauchi said soothingly, "it's just for your recovery while we figure out what to do next and make sure nothing happens to you again. I know it's hard. I'm sorry. I can't guarantee much much right now, so this is all I can offer."

Izuku swallowed. The kindness was nearly too much.

"What about, um… Hisashi?"

"Your father." _The Dragon._

Izuku nodded.

"We're actually not sure where he is right now," Detective Tsukauchi confessed. "We're trying to keep track of the League at the same time, but Chimera itself has been laying low—for better or for worse. It's dangerous not knowing what they're up to, but it's good knowing for now you're relatively out of danger."

"I don't think he'd hurt me," Izuku whispered. "I mean, he doesn't… it's… but I don't think he'd hurt me. Just want me back."

"At any rate, we won't let him have you," Detective Tsukauchi said. "It's not safe to."

"No," Izuku agreed sadly, "I don't want to go back."

"I've been told you don't remember… all that happened." Izuku shook his head in response. "Do you want to know?"

"It's better to, isn't it?" Izuku pressed his lips together. "I mean, it's better to know than to not. I'm just scared of what I'll remember."

"Villains are hardly kind," Detective Tsukauchi said.

"All for One was there, wasn't he?" _A network of scars. Tubes piled over each other. A voice, coy yet reassuring, tempting._ "He was… everything that happened… did— did _All Might_ —"

Detective Tsukauchi touched Izuku's arm. Brought him out of it.

"All Might is fine," Detective Tsukauchi said gently, "but All for One put up a fight. He's recovering right now, too. More worried about you, to be honest."

"Worried about me?"

But all Izuku's mind could find was a look of betrayal, the light disappearing in All Might's eyes. He didn't remember what happened after that. He didn't think it was very good, and certainly didn't make Izuku worthy of worry.

"He wanted to see you, but they wouldn't let him," Detective Tsukauchi said, then chuckled. "It's hard to tell All Might no, I think, but they managed it well enough."

"I…"

Did _he_ want to see All Might? The answer was yes, of course Izuku wanted to see All Might. At the same time, however, Izuku knew he wasn't ready. He was still recovering. He couldn't hold a pair of chopsticks steadily or walk more than a few steps without tiring. And the memories hidden in the recesses of his mind—they weren't clear yet. It wasn't fair.

"He sends his well wishes," Detective Tsukauchi said. He patted Izuku's shoulder. "He wanted you to know."

"Oh, that's— well, tell him thank you, if you see him."

Izuku stifled a yawn. He was beginning to feel tired again. He'd been told he still needed plenty of sleep, and so spent most of his time drifting in and out of it. Today he'd stayed awake for everyone who'd come to see him.

"You should get some rest," Detective Tsukauchi said. "I'll come back another time."

"I'm good—" Izuku was interrupted when he yawned again and scowled unhappily. Detective Tsukauchi only laughed, apparently amused.

"I'll let you know when they say you're ready to be released," Detective Tsukauchi explained, "but I should be coming back sometime in the next few days, Midoriya. I have a few questions I'd like you to answer if you can."

"Yes, yeah. Sure," Izuku blurted.

Detective Tsukauchi dropped a hand on Izuku's head. Just for a moment, but it felt nice.

"May I?" he asked, holding his arms out like he had when Izuku had first spoken to him, told him the first time his secrets.

"You always ask," Izuku said. He lifted his arms a fraction, and Detective Tsukauchi hugged him tight for a second.

"That was from Toshi," Detective Tsukauchi said in his ear. He pulled back, and Izuku was sorry to let him go. "I'd like you to be able to say no. I'll see you soon, Midoriya."

"Wait, sir," Izuku said, a heartbeat before Detective Tsukauchi was about to leave.

"Yes?"

He swallowed, then swallowed again. His throat felt so dry now. "What about… my mom? Does she know, did someone tell her?" Kacchan hadn't said a word about her.

Detective Tsukauchi softened.

"She doesn't know yet, no," he confirmed, and Izuku heaved a sigh. She'd only worry if she knew where he was. "Bakugou has been kind enough to keep an eye on her, though we have someone watching the apartment just in case."

"That's… good."

"I don't think that's all you meant, though, was it?" Izuku's eyes flashed to Detective Tsukauchi's face, then away. Heat pressed in his face. "I think she'll be very happy to have her son back, and I think she'll welcome you home with open arms. But we thought it was best, perhaps, to let you tell her yourself."

Izuku nodded jerkily. "Thank you."

Detective Tsukauchi bowed and took his leave, and Izuku was suddenly alone again. He slid back down under the covers, touching the clothes he had on and feeling them fold beneath his fingers. The hospital room was pale cream, undecorated by color. Izuku's only companion was the set of windows on the other wall and the light that stretched outside, bright. There was nothing to really see out of it but a parking lot and a few trees, but beyond that somewhere were people waiting. Waiting for Izuku.

He tugged the blanket up, curling on his unbandaged side, running his fingers lightly over a wound he hardly remembered. Izuku then held his hands in front of his face, wiggling his fingers. He tested it. One for All sparked, light jumping from tip to tip as a familiar and all-encompassing warmth soaked through his body. It'd become a friend to him. A single strand of hair was still caught between his fingers.

But— later.

Izuku shut his eyes. He traced the last, faint strands of a lullaby someone had sung to him and dreamed he was back home.


	45. Chapter 45

**Flare Signal** _  
chapter forty-five_

* * *

Detective Tsukauchi's home was simple. As Izuku carefully stepped in and took off his shoes, he swept a critical eye over the space. Plain, with only a few pictures tacked to the wall—but it had the feeling of being lived in.

"Ah… make yourself at home," Detective Tsukauchi said. He got Izuku a pair of slippers and then tossed his coat over the back of the couch instead of the coat hanger by the door. Izuku tracked the movement but sank deeper into the oversized shirt he was wearing.

"You have a nice place," Izuku commented. Detective Tsukauchi chuckled.

"My sister would disagree," he said. "Come on. I have a guest room for you."

Izuku walked into the space carefully, like every step was going to ruin something. Detective Tsukauchi showed him to his room, a small space with just a few furnishings and connected to a bathroom. Then there was a quick tour of the place before Detective Tsukauchi let him settle in.

"Aizawa said he would come by with your things sometime later. Dinner will be soon," Detective Tsukauchi told him. His mouth quirked up into a little smile. "Don't expect too much. I'm not the best cook."

"I'm sure you're great," Izuku said hollowly, and Detective Tsukauchi patted his shoulder before leaving Izuku alone in the guest room. He stared at the clean floor, then scuffed his slipper against it. It didn't even leave a mark.

Izuku already felt restless. He'd spent time trapped in the hospital. Now he was here.

He knew it wasn't anyone's _fault._ They were trying to keep him safe. Izuku didn't feel safe.

He wanted to go _home._ Now that it was in reach, now that it was actually plausible it hurt more than the wound that stretched across Izuku's side. It hurt more because there was a compass where his heart was, spinning and spinning and settling with the point in the direction of a little apartment.

Izuku threw himself on the bed, gasping when the impact sent a searing pain through his ribs. He squeezed his eyes shut, hands scrabbling at his shirt and the bandages underneath. Izuku curled up until the pain began to recede, and when he opened his eyes again he felt tears gather in the corners. But he didn't remember.

Izuku hummed quietly as he held himself. He tried soothing his own hurt. There were words to the melody, but he didn't know them—he didn't even know the song he was humming.

He wished he had his phone. He wanted to call Kacchan, hear his voice. Text his friends. He wanted—the thought choked him, smothered him, because suddenly Izuku recalled blinking up at Silver as she held him. Eyes on his face as she hummed an old tune she'd taught him a few years ago, early on when they were still getting to know each other. A lullaby her parents had sung her to sleep with. His body felt heavy.

"Midoriya?" There was a knock on the door. "Dinner."

He and Detective Tsukauchi ate quietly. Izuku made small talk but felt terribly poor at it, but Detective Tsukauchi was happy to talk about his sister when asked. A journalist with a similar Quirk and a little bit of a different personality.

Eraserhead showed up partway through dinner. He shuffled in through the door looking tired as ever, talking quietly with Detective Tsukauchi while Izuku swung his legs childishly.

"I brought your things, kid," Eraserhead said. He declined a bowl of rice, citing that he was only passing through for business. Then Eraserhead set down a duffle bag. "There may be a few missing things—"

"Right," Izuku said. He'd been asked if he could release his things for the police to go through, and Izuku had told them it wasn't much besides a few personal items and clothing. But there were a few papers Izuku had stuffed inside he hadn't looked at before grabbing, too scared of being caught, and he directed them to the hastily-done stitches of a secret pocket where he'd hidden them.

"And a few new things," Eraserhead added. Izuku frowned. Eraserhead shrugged. "Bakugou threw some clothing in, I think."

"Bakugou," Izuku muttered.

"Oh," Eraserhead said, standing up. He dug around in his pockets. "For you."

"Huh?"

Eraserhead pulled out a bit of string and put it on the table, grumbling. Detective Tsukauchi seemed to find it amusing to watch the pro hero take things from his pockets that weren't what he wanted. A keychain with a cat on it. Some loose change. Crumpled papers.

But finally Eraserhead procured a set of tied envelopes.

"From your classmates." He nodded. "I'm meeting with Mic before I head off on patrol in a little bit—"

Izuku was still sitting, stunned. "Do, can, um. Tell, I mean, can you tell them thank you for me?" Eraserhead grunted, so that was a yes. "And will you see— Bakugou?"

"I'm not a messenger," Eraserhead grumbled, shoving the side of Izuku's head, "so just this once."

"Going soft, are you, Eraserhead?"

Eraserhead frowned at Detective Tsukauchi.

"Can you tell him I'll— take it back? He'll know what I mean. I think. I'm going to take it back."

Eraserhead raised his eyebrows, a little curious, but eventually nodded. "I'll pass it on."

When Eraserhead left, Detective Tsukauchi slid back into the seat across the table. "One for All?"

Izuku was picking at his rice. "One for— what?"

"You said you would take it back."

"Ah— yeah, I… I was thinking about it and, he said he really didn't want it and I don't really know, I mean, I don't think I have a choice but I don't really— well, you don't want to hear about it."

Detective Tsukauchi smiled. "I hear a lot of things, Midoriya. I don't mind hearing a little more if you want to talk about it."

"I just don't remember," Izuku said through his teeth. "I don't remember everything that happened at Kamino, I just remember parts, but I— God, I messed up, I think. I don't know. I just remember seeing Shigaraki and then I was with All for One, and I went with him, and I stood with him, and I don't know what I was thinking—"

"Breathe, Midoriya."

He pressed his hands to his face. Izuku wasn't going to cry. He _wasn't._

Izuku heard Detective Tsukauchi move and saw him crouch down in front of the kitchen chair. He felt embarrassed and ashamed. He'd always been a crier, but Izuku just felt like a burden now, something that was in the way that Detective Tsukauchi had to put up with. And all Izuku was doing was taking selfishly because his wants were enough to swallow the world whole. And everyone kept giving.

"I don't know if anyone ever told you," Detective Tsukauchi said, "but you're not a villain, Midoriya."

Izuku sniffled. "I don't want to be."

"So you're not."

"I don't think I'm a very good hero, either."

" _I_ think you're doing better than you know. You tried to do the right thing. I think All for One wanted you to think you were a villain—so he could use you. He wanted a lot of things, and every time he asked I think you told him no."

"He can't have me," Izuku rasped.

"No," Detective Tsukauchi agreed, "I don't think he ever had and I don't think he ever will."

Izuku breathed. The words jumbled up in his head, his heart. Detective Tsukauchi grabbed the set of envelopes off the table. They were plain, a stack tied together with some twine.

"Would you like to open them?"

Izuku nodded. Detective Tsukauchi helped him. He opened the first one and saw a bright _Get Better Soon_ card.

 _I miss you!_ Uraraka had written. _Please take care._ Iida had taken up the whole corner, writing as small as he'd been able to but writing a long note telling Izuku that he hoped he was feeling better and that he was worried. Todoroki hadn't written much, but he'd included an apology in small script, though Izuku didn't know what it was for. Other classmates had signed the card, writing their names and so many notes in different colors that Izuku could hardly see the paper behind it.

The next few envelopes were stuffed with pictures. Someone had collected a bunch of photographs of the class—training, hanging out, pictures during class and after school. They were printed glossily. Izuku stared at wide-stretched smiles. He almost smiled when he saw Kacchan in one of the pictures, stretching before class and seeing the camera just in time to scowl at it. Izuku was in some of the photos, too, though he didn't remember seeing them taken. One was from the Sports Festival; Izuku didn't recognize himself during his fight with Todoroki. He saw orange fire surround him, black hair raising as light raced across the surface of his skin. His expression was fierce, teeth gritted. He looked like a version of himself that Izuku didn't know and wasn't sure he liked. Akatani, caught in the claws of the Dragon. He put the picture aside.

But there were ones where Izuku looked—almost happy. A picture taken at training camp with all of Class 1-A, tired from the day's work. A selfie Uraraka had dragged him into.

He flipped through the stack to the last photo and paused. Slowly Izuku set the rest down, turning the photograph so it was vertical. He didn't know who'd taken it, or when.

In the photograph, the first thing he'd noticed was the dark hallways of U.A. They framed a set of open doors, and standing in front of them were Izuku and All Might together. The background was bright enough that it was difficult to see much, but Izuku could just see their expressions.

All Might had a hand on Izuku's shoulder, and he was smiling—not his hero smile, not _I am here,_ but one that was softer. Less performative, more real. Izuku was smiling back. Izuku couldn't remember what they were talking about or why they were standing there, but he fingered the edge of the photograph and peered at the way the light haloed the two of them.

"That's a nice picture." Izuku jumped. He'd forgotten Detective Tsukauchi was there. "I think you missed one."

"O- oh," Izuku said, and saw an unopened envelope. This one was thicker. It had something heavy inside, and Izuku weighed it, pressing at the envelope in confusion. On the front was plainly written his name—Izuku's eyes widened. His real name.

He opened it. His fingers touched something cool and hard, and Izuku pulled it out.

"A… medal?"

Gold. He ran his finger over the surface. First place. He felt his mouth drop open; it was the medal from the Sports Festival, but it wasn't Izuku's. It was Kacchan's.

He saw something else that had been tucked behind the medal and saw just one more photograph. But this was different. Older. _Pro Heroes Deku and Kacchan to the Rescue._ Younger.

Izuku clutched it and laughed.

"Sorry," he said, when he saw Detective Tsukauchi still there. He wiped at his eyes. "Um…"

Detective Tsukauchi stood and stretched. "You've got a lot of mail." He frowned. "Ah… I have one more letter for you."

"A letter? From who?"

It couldn't be from his classmates; none of them would have gone to Detective Tsukauchi, and everyone had sent their well wishes with Eraserhead. There was no one else, really. Izuku mulled over it as Detective Tsukauchi vanished and then returned with a simple envelope.

"This is yours."

Izuku caught his breath. "This is—"

He turned the envelope over. _To Toshinori._

"This is…"

It wasn't. But it was. The letter Izuku had written and sealed, to give to Toshinori in case anything had happened. Now it was in his hands again; Izuku nearly dropped the letter, feeling it burn at his fingertips. He turned it to the back and realized it hadn't been opened.

"I…" He looked up, bewildered. "He didn't… I don't understand."

Detective Tsukauchi nodded. "He didn't read it."

"But I wrote it for him." Izuku's heart broke. "I don't understand why he didn't…"

Detective Tsukauchi folded his hands over Izuku's. They held the letter together.

"What you wrote in here… it's important, isn't it?" Izuku's eyes watered, but he nodded in confirmation. "And I think I know some of what you must have put. He didn't want it."

Izuku shook his head. He still didn't understand.

"Toshinori wanted _you_ to tell him," Detective Tsukauchi said gently. "He said if there was anything you wanted him to know he wasn't going to read the letter. He said if there was anything you wanted to entrust him with he was going to wait until he'd saved you, so he could see your face instead of a letter. He said opening it would have been like giving up, and he would have never, ever given up on you."

Izuku's hands shook.

But Detective Tsukauchi wasn't done. "He might have chosen you to be his successor—but that wasn't everything, Midoriya. It doesn't end there. He didn't fight All for One just because they're enemies. He didn't carry you from the fight because of a legacy. He didn't win just to stop All for One— he did all of those things because he loves you."

Izuku took in a shuddering breath. Tears slid down his nose and dripped onto the envelope, onto their hands.

"They let me visit him. The first thing he asked me when I walked in was if you were alright."

"Did he tell you to say that?"

Detective Tsukauchi was smiling when Izuku looked up at him. "He didn't tell me to say all of it. He didn't need to, anyway, and he didn't need to say anything. I don't need my Quirk to know."

He tried to glue all the pieces together and came up short. Detective Tsukauchi took a step back but stayed, a presence in the corner of Izuku's eye. Izuku broke the seal of the envelope and tugged the folded paper out. Nestled in it was a dark strand of hair. Toshinori had given it back to him.

 _Dear Toshinori,_

 _If this letter reaches your hands, something's gone wrong. I hope you don't have to read this, but if you are… I'm sorry._

 _There's something about me that you need to know._

 _I hope you don't hate me. I think you might, so before that happens I want to thank you for believing in me, because not a lot of people have. I didn't. I guess what I really mean to say is you gave me a chance, and I wish I could be the hero you wanted me to be._

 _I'm not._

 _My name isn't Akatani Mikumi. My name is Midoriya Izuku, and my father is Midoriya Hisashi—but you might know him better as the villain the Dragon. And you might know me better as Mirage. I betrayed you to the League of Villains. Everything that happened this year was because of me._

 _I'm sorry. I'm trying to fix this. I don't have a lot to offer you except for an apology; I never wanted any of this to happen. But apologies don't fix anything._

 _Please take One for All back. It is the only thing I can give you._

The writing was smudged in several places where Izuku had cried. All Might hadn't read the letter after all.

And All Might had come for him. He'd carried Izuku in his arms.

"Detective Tsukauchi, when can I…" Izuku folded the letter and put it back with his hair. "When can I- I need to tell him."

"I'll ask. He'll be happy to see you, Midoriya."

"Izuku," he whispered. "You can call me Izuku if you want to."

"Tsukauchi, then. Or Naomasa. There's no point in using my title all the time… Izuku."

"Um," Izuku said, "okay. Yeah. I- I've got to, I think I need to be alone."

Suddenly it was too much. He gathered all the envelopes, light in his arms, and retreated.

"Let me know if you need me," Tsukauchi called after him, and Izuku shut the door quietly. He dumped all of the things he'd received on the bed and then gingerly sat down in the empty spot next to them. Izuku picked through the photographs and found the one with him and All Might again. They were smiling. Would All Might smile when Izuku told him?

He shut his eyes and waded through the pieces of his memories. All Might in the dark. Standing across from him, betrayal on his face.

 _Mikumi,_ he'd said, not _Izuku._ He remembered. And All Might had still cradled him so gently after Izuku had taken the hit—had there been tears shining in his eyes?

Izuku had saved the hair Kacchan had given him. He activated the embers of One for All and then swallowed it. Just like that. It didn't feel any different. One for All hummed. It didn't make him feel any better.

There was something All Might said. He'd whispered it to Izuku—the last thing before he'd gone to fight All for One again. _You have to fight for me._ He kissed Izuku's forehead. Izuku stared at the photograph. He didn't know what came after that.

Ash and fire. Blood. And just one moment in the midst of it all. Izuku's mouth formed the words.

 _You're next._


	46. Chapter 46

**Flare Signal** _  
chapter forty-six_

* * *

The memories came as slowly as the answers. Izuku began to piece all of Kamino back together as together he and Tsukauchi unraveled the enigma that was Mirage. It took a toll on Izuku—most of the time, he was more tired than not, and he struggled from day to day.

But it was nice being useful. Tsukauchi took the time to reassure him that Izuku wasn't going to be arrested. Victim, he'd been labelled in the investigation. It was the first time anyone had called Izuku that instead of villain.

Chimera remained as elusive as ever. Izuku saw neither heads or tails of the organization even as other villains clawed their way to the surface in the gaps left by All for One's defeat. It was like they had vanished, even Hisashi. Izuku knew it was too good to be true, to believe that they were gone for good. More than likely, he'd told Tsukauchi, they were biding their time. Maybe they knew that the heroes were looking for them. It was too hard to say.

But with Chimera went Silver. He hadn't seen her since Kamino, the last sight of her worrying. He confided this in Tsukauchi, too, that he was scared she'd gotten in trouble for being somewhere she wasn't supposed to be.

Tsukauchi leaned back, locking his fingers behind his head. He seemed pensive, like he knew something Izuku didn't.

"She… I'm not sure anyone told you. She helped us find you."

Izuku, who'd been picking at a loose thread on his shirt, paused. "She what?"

Tsukauchi sighed. "I take it you're not aware, huh?"

"Of _what?_ "

What had Silver done? Suddenly Izuku felt a cold fear wash through him. She was always so selfless when it came to him. Loyalty, she called it, loyalty to anyone who had a place in her heart.

Loyalty, Izuku said, that could get her killed.

"After you and Bakugou were taken by the League, we… came up blank with leads. I looked through the information we had, including what you told me, but we had no idea where you'd been taken." Tsukauchi reached for the soda sitting in front of him, and Izuku remembered that Silver liked the stuff, too. "Silver—your Silver Scorpion—approached us with a… bargain, if you'll call it that. We were desperate. Without her we would've been too late."

"A bargain."

Tsukauchi nodded slowly. "Your location. Information about the League. We needed it."

"What did she… what did she want in return, then?"

"Immunity. For the both of you."

Izuku frowned. He wasn't familiar with legal terms, and though he'd read tons about Quirk law he wasn't entirely sure what that meant.

"So, like, she…"

"In short, we'll turn a blind eye on any past actions she may have done or carried out for Chimera. Not any future ones, mind you—Sasha was adamant on that, but the deal we struck allowed both you and Silver freedom from being classified as villains, shielding you from too much trouble with the law."

"She did that?" Izuku went quiet. "For… for me?"

Tsukauchi searched Izuku's face. He was careful when he spoke again. "Something I learned being a detective… not every villain turned out to easily fit the label as we thought. It's certainly easier to classify them as such but—" he waved a hand in Izuku's direction. "—there's more to it than I thought when I first took the job."

"Yeah," Izuku murmured. "But why—if she's not… where did she go?"

What Izuku was trying to ask was: _why isn't she here with me?_ It meant Silver wasn't safe. It meant she was still running from something. From someone. And she didn't want Izuku caught up in it, either.

He switched directions. "Does anyone know? About me?"

Tsukauchi shook his head. "We declined from releasing any information about your status to the public in the hopes that this would keep Chimera from getting their hands on anything sensitive that might help them track you down. We've been careful about who's being told, and we have a few safe locations to move you to in the case that something does happen."

It was… bigger than Izuku had thought. The situation more delicate. They were too tangled in a stalemate in which neither side knew when or how to make a next move. The Chimera investigation, Izuku gathered, was racing to pinpoint and arrest the villains before they could strike again. But how long would that take? How long would Chimera wait, patient in the dark? Did they want him back; did Izuku know too much, see too much?

"We've been keeping an eye out for Silver. If you were wondering."

Izuku scratched at his arm. "I don't really want to talk about her."

It was easy to promise things. He didn't know how to feel that they were looking for her, too. Izuku thought he should be relieved, but there was something about it that made him uneasy. He'd been told again and again that he was safe, that he wasn't going to arrested for his involvement in the events of the past year. But Izuku still found himself warily looking over his shoulder. He appreciated the generosity and the kindness of the detective who was working to give Izuku a shot at happiness—and Izuku trusted him.

But what about when they figured out Izuku was just… not what they thought he was? What would they do when they found Silver?

The urge to run crawled up the back of Izuku's neck. He knew how to run. He was good at hiding. He would find Silver.

It would be like they planned. Just the two of them together for a while, figuring out what to do next. Sheltering themselves from the darkness they had crawled from but making sure not to stay too long in the light. No heroes, no villains. Just kids for once.

It was tempting. It was so, so tempting.

Tsukauchi snapped the folder on the table shut and stood. "I think we're done for the day."

Izuku glanced at the time, torn. "But…"

Tsukauchi shrugged. "I asked to get off a little earlier today. I want to take you somewhere."

Izuku resisted the instinct to book it. He was ready to break through the door and go as far as his body could take him, even though he knew it would hurt. A few minutes, and Izuku could disappear like he'd never been there at all.

"You… you don't have to," Izuku tried to say. He didn't know what Tsukauchi was thinking. If this was another kind offer. Tsukauchi waved a hand. He pulled on his coat and hat and stood at the door of the interrogation room they'd been using. Waiting for Izuku.

"Where are we going?"

Tsukauchi shrugged. "You'll see."

Izuku shoved his uneasiness down. He was being irrationally afraid. Maybe it'd been the nightmares that plagued him when he slept that were bleeding into his waking life. They left the police station carefully, Izuku disguising himself, and drove to the destination. Izuku realized as they ambled down the streets and past buildings that the route was becoming more and more familiar.

When Izuku saw the small, dark strip of blue on the horizon he knew. The ocean unfolded before them, followed by clean sand. Dagobah. This time of day, there were only a few people as Tsukauchi took them to a more secluded spot.

Izuku felt his muscles release their tension when he took the first step from the car. The air was clearer here. The sand shifted under his feet. He'd come here month after month. He remembered how happy he'd been when he'd met All Might here every morning as the sun rose above the water and Izuku worked slowly to clear the beach.

He hadn't come here in so long it felt good coming back. Back to where it all started.

Izuku turned back to look at Tsukauchi. He'd gotten out of the car, too, but now he was just leaning against it, watching Izuku.

"You're… not coming?" Izuku asked, partway across the stretch of sand to the sea.

Tsukauchi shook his head. He unfurled one hand and pointed out towards the horizon. "I'm keeping watch. But there's someone else waiting for you."

"Someone el…"

The question died in Izuku's throat when he looked in the direction where Tsukauchi was pointing. There _was_ someone waiting for him. A tall, skeletal figure was standing on the beach. Izuku would recognize him anywhere.

"Oh, God," Izuku whispered. He stumbled forward. A sound that was animal tore from his throat, and Izuku choked on a sob. He started running.

Toshinori did, too.

Izuku slammed into him and sent him reeling backwards, throwing his arms around his mentor's waist as they staggered a few steps together. He clutched the back of Toshinori's shirt, already crying. Izuku felt Toshinori reciprocate, folding his arms around Izuku's shoulders.

"I'm…" Izuku gasped, but Toshinori pressed his chin to the top of Izuku's head.

"Don't be sorry," he murmured, like he already knew what Izuku was going to say. "My boy… I…"

Izuku couldn't keep it together. His knees buckled from underneath him, and Toshinori caught him as they gave out. Izuku held on, crying as they sank into the sand. Distantly the rush of water drifted in and out.

A set of warm hands cupped the sides of Izuku's face. "Let me see…"

Izuku pulled back, biting down on his trembling lip. Toshinori blinked quickly, but Izuku caught the sheen across his eyes.

"I thought I was going to lose you," Toshinori said, like it was a secret. "I thought he was going to take you from me, too."

"I'm _sorry,_ " Izuku said between heaving breaths. "I'm so sorry, I'm, I didn't want to, I don't want to, I don't want to do this anymore."

Toshinori ran a thumb along Izuku's jaw. "I know. I know."

"I need to tell you—"

He jerked away from Toshinori's touch and saw a flash of hurt cross Toshinori's face. Guilt clawed at his insides.

"Please listen to me," Izuku begged. "I need you to know, I'm sorry, I never meant for anything to happen the way it did I was just trying, I just wanted… I was working with them before U.A., he was right—"

"Stop," Toshinori said. But Izuku couldn't. He needed to confess now that it was over to the person that mattered.

"I'm the son of a villain I've been working with the League since," Izuku choked, "they wanted me, they sent me to U.A. to spy for them and I was scared and I shouldn't have, I should have stood up to them but I just couldn't and all this time I just—"

"Akatani…"

"Midoriya," Izuku sobbed, "Izuku. Everything was a lie."

He took the opened letter from his pocket and shoved the envelope at Toshinori. He felt Toshinori take it. Saw his hands open it, unfold the paper, curl around the strand of hair Izuku had put inside.

He dared to look up. Toshinori stood unblinking, looking back at him. There was a strange expression on his face.

"Not everything was a lie," Toshinori said, "not everything, I think."

Izuku raised his hand and began to weave an illusion.

And the fire flickered between them. Izuku stared into it, at the barrier between them—Izuku's own creation. His own fear, swallowing up the oxygen in Izuku's lungs, taking form in his father's Quirk.

"Don't you see what I am?" Izuku shouted in Toshinori's face. Wind whipped around them, Izuku's hair blowing around his head. He wiped at his face. "Don't you _see_?"

"Will you listen to me? It doesn't matter! It doesn't matter to me!"

"But I—"

"It doesn't matter who your father is or what your name is or isn't because I— because I _see_ you."

The fire curled and flickered. Izuku looked at the bright stuff and swallowed in fear. He could see the echoes of his own fear reflecting in Toshinori's eyes, and then Toshinori took the first step.

And he put his hand through the fire. He reached through the roiling darkness of Izuku's fear.

"I see you," Toshinori said again, and the flames dissipated. Izuku felt raw. "The first time we met you saved your friend. The first time we met you asked me if you could be a hero. You chose to become one. When someone needed you you never stood still when you had the option to."

"You chose me," he said, "you told me you would. Again and again. Every time."

He held out the envelope. Izuku wrapped his fingers around it shakily.

"One for All is yours. I can't take it back because I chose you… and I would choose you every single time, Izuku. Again. Again. I will never regret that."

"I'm not sure I'm the same person you chose."

Toshinori took Izuku's face between his hands. "You are exactly who you choose to be and nothing else. You aren't your father. You aren't what All for One tried to make you. You're just— yourself. That's all you need to be. You don't have to be anyone else. You don't have to be me. You just have to be you."

"Okay," Izuku whispered, "I'll try."

"Stop crying," Toshinori said, wiping at Izuku's face. "There's nothing to cry for. We made it."

"That's a little harder to do," Izuku said, and Toshinori laughed. Izuku managed a shaky smile.

Toshinori wrapped a hand around Izuku's shoulders. He used his other hand to wave at Tsukauchi, still waiting, and Izuku sank into Toshinori's side. They walked together.

"Will you promise me something?"

"Anything," Izuku said.

"Careful with that," Toshinori teased. He sobered. "You don't know what I'll ask for. But— when… if you… if something like this happens again, I— you taught me something. You taught me I wasn't alone, so I think I'll return the favor. If something like this happens again, I don't want you to shoulder it alone. I think you're brave and strong and capable, but I want to face it with you. Will you promise me that?"

"Yes," Izuku whispered. He was surprised how easy it was to say.

Tsukauchi pushed off of where he'd been leaning against his car, standing straight when they approached.

"Naomasa," Toshinori said, gripping Tsukauchi's forearm. He kept his arm around Izuku's shoulders. "It's good to see you."

"Ready for that paperwork yet?"

Toshinori punched Tsukauchi's shoulder. "I'm afraid I'm just too unwell to do paperwork, Naomasa. I am _terribly_ grateful to have _such_ a good friend to do all of it for me."

Tsukauchi winked at Izuku and grinned. "You're just lazy."

"The doctors said I couldn't write."

"I'm sure," Tsukauchi drawled. "Want to join us for a meal, Toshi?"

Izuku peeled himself away from Toshinori's side and caught a grimace on Toshinori's face. "Are you cooking?"

"His cooking's fine," Izuku defended. He paused, not sure where the line was, then said, "He does… make a bit of a mess, though."

Tsukauchi pointed an accusing finger between them. "You're not allowed to team up against me like this. I'm not cooking for either of you."

"Please forgive me, Naomasa," Toshinori said. He swept a hand outwards. "I offer my sincerest apologies."

"Ah, actually, why don't you take Midoriya here back?" Tsukauchi said. He looked at the time. "I've actually got some business to take care of. You've got a key, Toshinori."

Toshinori fished around in his pockets. He did, in fact, procure a house key. "Are you sure?"

"No use in waiting for me," Tsukauchi said, "go on ahead. I'll be quick."

Toshinori glanced at Izuku then back. "Alright, then. If you insist."

Toshinori didn't ask Izuku to talk, which was nice. Izuku felt like he'd spent years talking about all his secrets to everyone—good, he thought, but tiring. Instead Toshinori talked about the upcoming school year. He seemed to be looking forward to it. He'd been thinking about gift-giving for the other teachers and so had drawn up a large spreadsheet with all of their likes and dislikes. He had some new training ideas, thanks to Gran Torino—Izuku wasn't sure anyone else would like them. At Tsukauchi's place, Toshinori showed him the gift ideas he'd saved on his phone as they settled together in the dining room.

"And something for everyone else, too," Toshinori said, tapping away on his phone. A notification sounded. Toshinori hummed distractedly. "Is there anything you'd like? I want to give the whole class a gift."

"Ah…" Izuku said, embarrassed. "Not really."

He stared out the window. Cars passed on the street. Then the doorbell rang. A smile spread across Toshinori's face.

"Wait here," he said, "I'll get it."

"Oh. Okay."

Izuku turned back to the window. It was probably just Tsukauchi back from his errand. Distantly he heard the door open. Low voices talking in the foyer. Footsteps, approaching.

"I… Izuku?"

That wasn't Toshinori's voice. And it wasn't Tsukauchi's, either. It was higher, softer. It had a shaky cadence to it, a hesitance that struck a chord in him. A buried want in the way his name was spoken.

Izuku turned slowly. His mouth ran dry as he took in the person at the doorway, and she lifted a hand to her mouth when their eyes met. They were the same color as his.

"Mom?"


	47. Chapter 47

**Flare Signal** _  
chapter forty-seven_

* * *

Izuku stood on wobbly legs, feeling like he was a kid again learning to walk. He kept his eyes fixed on Mom, taking the first few steps forward across the room. She was trembling, hand pressed tight to her mouth, and Izuku saw the tears begin to run down her face.

"Mom," he said again, stronger, once he was sure she was really there. He reached out to touch her. " _Mom._ "

"You…"

Mom started crying. She bridged the distance between them and raised her hand to the side of his face. Her eyes shone when she looked at him. Everything else faded away, leaving only Izuku standing with his mom, the two of them gazing at each other.

She let out a laugh, like she didn't believe they were here. Izuku didn't. Five years of yearning was between them.

"You've grown so much," she whispered. Mom wiped her face and laughed again. "My boy. My beautiful baby boy. Oh, Izuku."

She'd named him that. Izuku's chin wobbled.

"I didn't think I'd ever— hear you… say my name again."

"Izuku," she said, louder, more, "Izuku, Izuku. I missed you every single day you were gone. I missed you so much."

He caught her in a hug. Izuku was taller than her now. She pressed her soft body around his, and Izuku laid his cheek on her shoulder. They'd changed, but this hadn't—this, her arms around him, and this, her calloused hands across his back, and this, his name in her mouth. Mom.

He said it out loud. "Mom."

He hadn't said it in years. Her shoulders shook under his hands. Izuku breathed in.

"Mom…"

"It's really you," she whispered in his ear. "My _son._ I thought I lost you and it hurt my heart so bad. I didn't think I could keep going, but I thought you would want me to."

He cried. "I'm sorry, Mom. I'm sorry I left."

"You found your way back to me." She stroked his hair. "Oh, Izuku, I never thought…"

"I'm here," Izuku sobbed into her shirt, lifting his face slightly so she could see him, "I'm here, I'm here, all I ever wanted was to see you again just once—"

Mom made a noise that wasn't quite a word. She didn't need to speak. Izuku understood without having being told. She had wanted the same. For every night Izuku had stared longingly out the window, for all the times he had stared himself in the mirror and stripped away every disguise, searching for his mom's face in his own, for every year that had passed him alone, there had been one for her, too.

"You're so tall," Mom murmured, fingers running over his shoulder, "and so strong. You changed. You grew up without me."

The way she said it was forlorn, wistful. Izuku thought of her living quiet and alone as he'd grown up slipping from back alley to rooftops, molding himself into a tool and forging himself on the edge of his father's fire. There were more wrinkles lining her face. A tiredness that came from worry, or perhaps grief.

He'd missed her, but he'd _missed_ her. She hadn't been there for birthdays, or the time Silver had snuck Izuku out to see the special edition All Might movie. He should have been able to share more moments with her. He should have been able to run and tell her he'd gotten into U.A. Smaller things, like buying a bag of her favorite milk candies on the way home from school or how she used to tell him about her day as they curled together on the couch.

"Well," Izuku said, trying for a smile, "I think I've still got a little bit left to go, Mom."

"I'm not missing another second," Mom said firmly. She reached up to ruffle his hair, longer now than it had been when he'd cut it at the beginning of the year.

"I don't plan on leaving, either."

Mom shook her head. Her eyes were wide with disbelief, and Izuku realized they were both still standing and tugged her to the table to sit.

"Five _years,_ " she said, and her voice cracked. Izuku bowed his head. Five years was a long time for anybody. She took his hands in hers, and Izuku could feel her shaking.

"I'm- sorry."

"Baby, it's not your fault," she told him, "but— what… Izuku, what happened?"

A lifetime flashed before his eyes. _You're not going back._ The first hero he'd tracked for Chimera, quietly dying in a house fire everyone grieved for but didn't bat a second eye at. Hitting the ground after Bonestealer fought him ruthlessly, Izuku still awkward-limbed in that teenage way.

Izuku thought he was getting used to— other people knowing, now. Tsukauchi, Eraserhead, Kacchan, Toshinori. Others, though limited, some policemen, some heroes. The list was growing longer, but Mom wasn't on it.

She didn't know.

The thought hit him like a truck. Kacchan hadn't said a word. She didn't know. Mom had no idea what Izuku had been doing for the past few years—she and Kacchan had believed him dead, a ruse orchestrated by Chimera. Another illusion. Being dead might have been kinder. She didn't know the man she had married, maybe, once loved was just someone masquerading as a husband. A dragon in sheepskin. She'd been upset but still happy to see him when he'd showed up on their doorstep five years ago, bringing apologies and slipping back into the little life Izuku and Mom had built together.

That Hisashi was alive. That Hisashi was a villain. That he loved in the way that dragons did—possessive, full, taking.

The man who had swept her off her feet, who had put a ring on her finger was the same man who had swept Izuku away, putting shackles on his wrists.

She didn't know.

"Izuku?"

He stared at the table. How could— how could Izuku tell her? How could he tell her all these years while she thought him dead he had been alive as a villain? A victim.

"Izuku, if… if you survived, where- why were you gone for so long? Why didn't you— call, or, or say something or, why, why didn't you come home?"

He didn't need to look at her to see that she was putting together pieces of a much larger picture than she knew. He didn't need to look at her to hear hurt in her voice. To Mom it must have been unfathomable that Izuku had chosen not to go home, if he hadn't actually died.

Behind them, someone cleared their throat. Tsukauchi stood, asking silent permission to come farther, and Izuku nodded. Tsukauchi took a few steps forward.

"Apologies for interrupting," he said, "but I thought you could use some help."

Izuku sagged in his chair. Tsukauchi came to sit, Mom looking at him with trepidation. She didn't let go of Izuku's hands, though.

He had to tell her. It wasn't fair for her to be kept in the dark, and one of these days she would find out anyway. It would be better, Izuku knew, but it would hurt.

"May I?" Tsukauchi asked him. Izuku blinked rapidly, then nodded, so Tsukauchi turned his attention to Mom. "Excuse me… I apologize I wasn't able to give you much information earlier, but I thought your reunion was more important. You know this, of course, but my name is Detective Tsukauchi, and I'm one of the officials working on your son's case."

"Izuku's— case?"

"Nothing bad," Detective Tsukauchi reassured, then amended, "at least nothing that means he is in any trouble with the law. But it's a very complicated situation."

Mom's eyes darted between them. "I- I see. But how…"

Izuku's courage failed him. Tsukauchi glanced at him, then said, "Your husband is not dead, either. Despite what the records say and what you have been told."

Mom gasped. "Hisashi…" She looked around. "If he, if he survived, too, then why…"

Tsukauchi took in a breath. He was a detective, a policeman. How many times had he done this? How many doors had he knocked on to deliver bad news to? Did it get easier, or harder?

"He isn't here because he's the cause for investigation, Midoriya," he said. Mom pulled one hand from Izuku's to put to her chest. She breathed in then out again shakily. Izuku took her other hand and clutched it tightly.

He was sorry. He shouldn't have been; it was Hisashi's choices, his own beliefs that had made him a villain. Izuku was just another piece. A pawn. Part of the plan.

Izuku looked past Mom to see Toshinori hovering. His eyes met Izuku's. He was sorry, too. Izuku pressed trembling lips together, head dipping slightly at the silent question in Toshinori's eyes. Toshinori was sorry, too.

"I'm sorry, I don't understand," Mom said. Her eyes watered. Izuku's fingers curled.

"Midoriya Hisashi is a villain."

Mom jerked, shoulders hitting the chair behind her back. She drew away from Izuku, and he missed her touch. Tears fell from her eyes. Izuku brought his hand up to his mouth to muffle the whimper that had escaped him. Toshinori finally crossed the threshold and circled the table to sit next to Izuku, and Izuku took his hand under the table.

"No, no, no, he's, my husband was a businessman, working overseas, he- he came back because—" Mom's brow furrowed in confusion, hurt. There was a strange tone to her voice. "He said he came back… I don't remember, but he, he can't be a villain. You're, that's not true. That can't be true."

Tsukauchi's face was sympathetic. Toshinori's expression was tight; under the table, he was rubbing soothing circles on the back of Izuku's hand. He'd only just learned, too, but it wasn't the same.

"Midoriya," Tsukauchi said. It couldn't have been easier. No matter how many times he'd done it. Of course it couldn't have been easy; it wasn't happy news that Hisashi was alive even though he was supposed to be dead. Izuku suddenly wanted to laugh.

"No," Mom said, the light in her eyes different. She shook her head again, the yellow-gold sunlight bouncing around her. "I… I… I'm sorry, I just can't believe—"

"Mom."

Her gaze shot to Izuku. He swallowed painfully, and Toshinori squeezed his hand under the table in a silent show of support. Mom hadn't even noticed Toshinori; she would know now, of course, who he was…

"Izuku," she said, voice high and frantic, "Izuku, baby, please tell me, I don't understand."

Her panic fed into his. But Izuku forced it back.

"Mom," he said. He didn't want it to be true any more than any of the other people sitting at the table, but it was. He'd lived it. "Mom."

He didn't need to say anything else. Izuku just opened his heart to her and let her see.

"Midoriya Hisashi is involved in a villain organization by the name of Chimera," Tsukauchi explained when the conversation had lulled, "and from my understanding of what I've been told by your son, Izuku was taken in order to be trained as a villain and potential successor to the organization as Mirage, the son of the Dragon."

"A villain," Mom whispered. Izuku almost missed it. His heart missed a beat, constricting in his chest. He felt sick, like he was about to throw up.

"Izuku and Chimera connected with the League of Villains in order to infiltrate U.A., with Izuku posing as a student accepted into the heroics course to gain information on All Might."

Izuku bowed his head. He didn't need a reminder of what he'd done.

"I forgive you," Toshinori said, low in his ear, "if you needed to hear it."

Mom looked at him. "This… is true?"

Izuku tried to say it three times before he could get it out, croaking, "Yeah."

Mom was struggling, he could tell. She dabbed at her eyes with a sleeve, and then Toshinori slid a handkerchief across the table for her to use. She looked at the person it had come from, accepting it gratefully, then recognized him. Whatever she had been about to say died on her tongue.

"All Might…"

"May I reassure you of something?" Toshinori cleared his throat. "For the past year… longer, I have had the pleasure and the absolute honor to teach and learn from your son. I have seen him grow. I suspected, perhaps, that his father was unsupportive of his desire to become a hero—for much different reasons than I believed. But Izuku has persevered. He strained to become a hero even when his circumstances made it incredibly difficult to do so, and after learning of his situation, I must admit that I was both proud and impressed by his ability to do good and the strength of his will and character in order to continue to strive forward… as a hero. There are leagues between him and his father, and I am so grateful to have known Izuku and to help him become someone he will be proud of."

He smiled. Izuku turned toward him like a flower to sun.

"Though I know the news about your husband must come as a terrible blow, I hope you should know your son is— you will never have to doubt his heart."

Toshinori glanced sideways at Izuku. "Don't cry so much," he teased, procuring another handkerchief and dabbing gently at the few tears that had escaped Izuku's eyes. He hadn't even noticed. "You're going to run out of tears, kid."

"Well," Izuku started, voice hoarse, "don't… do that."

"I can't help but to speak the truth, my boy."

"Th- thank you, All Might," Mom said. She straightened a little in her chair, and then slumped again. "I'm… it means a lot to hear. From you."

She took them all in. "I'm sorry. Can— I think I need a moment. Is there a- a bathroom?"

Tsukauchi stood. "I'll show you where it is."

The two left Izuku and Toshinori sitting together at the table. Toshinori got them both glasses of water, and Izuku drank slowly.

"Did you mean it?" Izuku tilted the glass slightly so the water shifted, taking on a new shape. It rippled. "Did you mean what you said?"

"Of course I meant what I said."

"Thank you," Izuku murmured.

"You don't look very happy, my boy."

Izuku's hand lurched. A little water sloshed out of the glass and spilled onto the table. "I'm… I'm really happy, Toshinori. I haven't seen Mom in, God, I haven't seen her in so long and it was all I ever really wanted and I am, it's like, it's like a dream."

Toshinori's eyes softened. "I'm glad."

"I just wish— I just wish none of it had happened in the first place. I wish we didn't have to reunite, because it means I had to leave first."

Izuku _was_ happy. It did feel like a dream the way Izuku said. Izuku felt like he was floating, like Uraraka had activated her Quirk on him. Nearly indescribable. One of those rare, rare moments where the world finally seemed right again. The first time Toshinori had told him he could be a hero, despite it all. Seeing Kacchan again. Just feeling like things were slotting back into place where they belonged, back into a life that Izuku had wanted for so long and was finally beginning to live.

It was just a happiness that was complicated by a mess of other emotions, but he would take them. He would feel them.

Mom. Thinking of her cut through the dread and fear that came with Hisashi.

Tsukauchi reappeared, but Izuku stood. He'd remembered something.

"I'm going to go— talk to her, um, alone." Then Izuku paused, looking at Tsukauchi. He'd never done this before, but… "Can- can I?"

Izuku had never been one to ask. They had always been kindly given to them, and Izuku, starved, wanting, had taken them. But now Izuku put his arms around Tsukauchi instead.

"Thank you," he said, "you don't know what… how much I needed to- to see her. Thank you. Thank you so much."

"I'm glad to help." Tsukauchi patted his head.

Izuku pulled back, suddenly a little embarrassed, and darted down the hall. He paused, seeing Mom standing alone in the hallway, a little lost and alone.

Oh, how Izuku knew the feeling.

"Mom?"

"Oh," her gaze flickered to him, "Izuku."

There wasn't any doubt or fear in her expression. He reached for her hand, and she took it.

"I'm sorry you had to find out," Izuku said plainly. "I wish… I wish it wasn't like this."

"Don't apologize to me," she said, cupping his face. "You did nothing wrong. I'm not… it's a lot to take in, but _you_ , having you back, Izuku, that's worth more to me than anything. You understand that, right? I love you."

"I love you, too." He tugged her to his room. "Mom, I want to tell you…"

"Not now." Mom took him in. "I want to hear everything. I want you to tell me everything. But let me just… let me look at you a moment longer."

He let go of her hand. "I have something for you."

Izuku swallowed back his nervousness and went to where he'd shoved his things under the bed. He pulled out a box that he'd partially hidden, not wanting anyone to see even though he knew it was safe. Izuku dusted off the top. He'd saved it for so long and for himself that opening it, sharing it was like baring his soul.

But it was for Mom. He'd kept it for her.

Izuku stood up again, turning and holding the box out to her. She didn't seem to recognize it, but she took it, glancing unsurely up at him.

"Open it," he murmured.

She did. Her face crumpled as she reached into the box, carefully taking out the All Might figures that were in it.

"We promised," Izuku said, choking up. "We promised, so I kept them for the day… for the day that I could- I could."

Mom began to cry softly. She looked at the figures in the box and wept, then threw her arms around him. This time it hurt when she did it, a little too tight around Izuku's side, but he didn't care one bit.

"You're _here_ ," she said. He could feel her fingers still clutching onto the figures, pressing against the back. He thought of All Might keeping him safe. He thought of going home.

"I'm here," he said back. Izuku shut his eyes. "I think… I think there's somewhere those belong."

"Yes," Mom breathed, "yes, we're going to go home soon, baby, we're going to go home."

"I feel like I'm already there," Izuku said, "even if this still feels like—like a dream."

Izuku kept expecting Mom to draw away, but she didn't. She held him. And she held him. And Mom kept holding him until Izuku began to believe she was real.


	48. Chapter 48

**Flare Signal** _  
chapter forty-eight [part one]_

* * *

Izuku stopped in the doorway.

It wasn't a choice. If he could take another step farther he would have, but Izuku stopped. Shoes on tile, hands limp at his sides. He felt a little like he was sinking, the way a body did in bed. Relief swept over him, sweet and aching. A good feeling that highlighted all the bad parts.

"Izuku?"

He moved. Izuku took his shoes off methodically, and his body turned, remembering the place where they were supposed to go. Mom handed him a set of slippers, and Izuku blinked at them, realizing they weren't the same pair he'd had before. Of course they weren't. He'd been a kid then.

Izuku shuffled in silently. Mom overtook him easily, but Izuku took his time, spinning in slow circles as he drank in his surroundings. It was home. Partly the way he remembered; yes, there were the All Might DVDs in the shelf under the TV; and yes, there was the sunflower painting Mom had done for a class once; and yes, the vase he and Kacchan broke and repaired together.

But there were— newer things. In the vase was a fresh set of flowers, pink blooms Izuku didn't know the name of. As he traveled into the kitchen he realized the counters weren't as tall as they used to be, and the backsplash had been replaced at some point with pale blue tiles.

"I kept your room for you," Mom said. He blinked, then shifted, realizing she was too close to him.

"You… uhh… you did?"

"Of course I did," Mom told him. He inched his way down the hall. On the wall he passed a set of pictures he'd forgotten was there until he reached his old room. Izuku glanced back to where Mom was busy bustling in the kitchen.

He opened the door. Izuku blinked. First he saw the window, then the bed underneath. On the wall across from him were two All Might posters, capturing him perfectly in time. Pictures above his desk. Bright colors sweeping across the entire room, clutter from papers and notebooks, collectible toys. Izuku shut the door again, staring at the blank white wood.

It was overwhelming to look at.

Izuku breathed in. Sound drifted from down the hall, and Izuku turned on his heel and walked silently.

The framed pictures hanging in the hallway caught his eye. He paused over a few—him and Mom at the beach in one, Izuku failing miserably at playing hide-and-seek in another, one with Mom and Auntie Mitsuki. He didn't really remember the pictures, but Izuku certainly was sure there were some that hadn't been there before. Kacchan and Kirishima grinning victoriously at the Sports Festival. Kacchan in front of the U.A. campus, backpack over his shoulders and looking impatient.

Kacchan. Izuku hadn't seen him in a while. And all of the photos—those were from a time before Kamino, when Izuku was still Akatani.

He went back to his room. It was a kid's room, full of Izuku's dreams and deepest fantasies. There was so much in it that it made Izuku's eyes hurt. Overwhelming, he'd thought earlier, and just because he'd shut the door and reopened it didn't change the thought. Different.

He just wasn't used to it, he supposed. There'd been a time Izuku would feel safe and content surrounded by over-pasted walls decorated with his hero—and it wasn't that Izuku didn't so much now, only that he'd spent a long time having nothing. With Hisashi, his walls were bare; there was no money to waste on heroes or anything that could be identifiable, anything that would distract Izuku. Anything that would remind him of his old life.

It was clean, though. After Izuku stopped staring at the posters and the toys and all the little collectible knick-knacks he could still name off the top of his head, he found his room was clean. There wasn't any dirt collecting on the floorboards. No dust on the edge of his desk. When he finally dared to perch on the edge of the bed, he found the blankets soft and still smelling faintly of detergent.

 _I kept your room for you._

Why? Izuku stared at the floor. He scraped his slipper against it as if that would stain the wood. For all intents and purposes, Midoriya Izuku was dead. He'd stopped existing five years ago. Just gone. What had made Mom cling to this, to keep his room and his things, to keep the figurine on the counter? Hope that one day he'd come back?

After a round of inspection, the only thing Izuku found that wasn't pristine was the window. Smudged, though when Izuku used the corner of his shirt to wipe at the clouded glass he realized some of the smears left were from the outside. He didn't want to know what that meant.

Izuku peered into the tabletop mirror on his desk. He lifted his hair away from his face, the dye finally beginning to fade and revealing dull green underneath. No more disguises or makeup or illusions. Even without them Izuku looked a far cry from who he used to be, maybe who Mom expected to see. And unwell—pale skin and bagged eyes and a thinness to him Mom would surely try to remedy.

A tapping sound from outside the room—footsteps. Izuku tensed and forced himself to relax as Mom knocked on the door.

"Open," he said. Mom poked her head in. She was clutching her phone, hand covering the speaker. She looked a little frazzled. Bad news, then; Izuku braced himself.

"It's, ah… dear, it's All Might," she half-whispered, "he was wondering if he could come by later. Or now?"

"Uh, uh, yeah," Izuku stammered. All Might in Izuku's apartment. He tried to picture the tall man filling up the space here, filling the rooms with his presence. "I mean, if you're okay with it. Totally super fine."

Mom lifted the phone back to her ear. "Yes, yes, that's perfectly fine, um, All Might. We would be happy to have you here."

The call ended soon after. Mom looked at him, sagging back against the wall.

"All Might," she said faintly. "Oh, my."

Izuku realized that to her All Might was still, well, All Might. Another difference to mark down. To Mom he must have still seemed the untouchable, larger-than-life hero who had saved hundreds of thousands of people. The hero Izuku had grown up admiring, watching. Izuku had seen the more human side of him. They'd shared vending machine drinks after long days on the beach. All Might called all the students 'young.' He had a Quirk he'd passed on to Izuku. He'd been Quirkless before. Izuku had seen All Might laugh hard enough it must have hurt over a silly, stupid joke, and All Might had held him—tenderly, intimate, in a way that only Mom might have before.

"He's cool, I guess," Izuku said, remembering specifically the one time All Might had knocked his head on the doorframe as he'd tried to enter the classroom dramatically. Mom rubbed her face.

"You and All Might…" she trailed off, brows furrowing. "You know each other?"

"He was— he's my teacher."

 _Teacher_ wasn't the best descriptor. Mentor was closer. But there wasn't a word Izuku thought could completely capture what Toshinori was to Izuku, and he wasn't sure it was something Mom should hear at the moment or something he wanted to pin down.

"You're going to have to explain this again to me, dear," Mom said, kissing the side of Izuku's head.

By the time Toshinori arrived ten minutes later, Izuku had given her a watered-down version of how he'd gone to U.A. as one Akatani Mikumi and had learned under All Might's guidance. He danced over the details, wanting to wait for Toshinori to actually arrive before he thought of explaining anything else—especially One for All.

The doorbell rang. Izuku slipped off the couch and got the door before Mom could. Toshinori smiled when he saw who had opened the door.

"Um, come in," Izuku said, suddenly feeling shy. "Here…"

"I stopped by the market and bought some fresh fruit," All Might said, "I felt bad if I didn't bring anything, so I hope this is alright."

"Oh, no, no," Mom said as he wandered into the kitchen and put the box of fruit on the counter. "You really didn't have to, oh."

"I insist," Toshinori said with an easy smile. Izuku backed off. Mom stammered her way through a thank you before realizing she hadn't prepared anything.

"Here for a visit?" Izuku mumbled, feeling his face heat. He tugged Toshinori out of the kitchen and into the open dining room, where at least they were out of earshot of his mom.

"I wanted to see you." Toshinori ruffled his hair, and Izuku made an indignant noise, trying to fix it. "That's not reason enough, my boy?"

Izuku tilted his head. "Just to see me?"

"Well, maybe I wanted a hug, then," Toshinori tacked on, then wrapped his arms around Izuku in an inviting hug. Izuku sighed, hugging back. "Aizawa's outside keeping watch, by the way. You might not have seen him, but he's there just in case."

"Oh." Izuku bobbed his head, then said, "I wanted to ask you…"

"Yes?"

He twisted his hands together. "Well, since you're here, I mean—I was going to tell Mom about all of, everything. And I guess you deserve the full story, too, but, um. She doesn't know about… you know."

Toshinori raised his eyebrows.

"Well, it's just, you said it was best if we kept it a secret? I mean, _Kacchan_ knows, but I don't, that wasn't, well. I feel like it's not fair if I hide it, and I mean, she knows I have a Quirk and it would be suspicious if I—"

Toshinori put his hands on Izuku's shoulders and said, "If you think it's right to tell her, then you should tell her."

"But you said…"

"It's not mine anymore," Toshinori said. He patted Izuku's chest. "It's yours."

"But—"

"No more secrets, remember? They're not good to keep if they hurt you." Izuku opened his mouth and then shut it. "Besides, you taught me not to be alone. And I'm beginning to think that sharing that burden with other people is… it makes it less of a burden for everyone, strangely."

"Okay."

"Yeah?"

"Okay," Izuku said again.

"Good."

They were cut off as Mom re-entered, and Izuku took a few self-conscious steps backward. They gathered in the living room with tea, Izuku and Mom sitting together as Toshinori sat in the lone armchair.

"So, um…"

"Allow me to re-introduce myself," Toshinori said, standing. He bowed to Mom, then said, "you might know me as All Might, but my real name is Yagi Toshinori, if you'd like to call me that. I'm fine with either. It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Midoriya."

"Oh," Mom said, and when Izuku looked over her eyes were wide, "um, please, er, All Might, call me Inko."

Izuku's palms were sweaty. He wiped them on his shorts, cast a worried glance in Toshinori's direction, then said boldly, "I think we should talk. You, both of you, should know everything that happened. To me."

It was the least Izuku could do, or give.

"Oh, Izuku." Mom clasped his hand.

"Why don't we start with One for All, first?"

Izuku could see how difficult it was to say for Toshinori. One for All. It wasn't something they often said out loud, too aware of its kept secrets. Izuku glanced over his shoulder but knew they were alone in the apartment.

"I'm sorry," Mom interrupted, "what is that?"

"It's, well…"

And the panic started. Izuku glanced helplessly at Toshinori. He didn't know why it was suddenly so hard just to say, but Toshinori only smiled reassuringly before taking over.

"It's a Quirk," he finished for Izuku. "Specifically, my Quirk."

"I don't understand the, um…"

"That's alright. One for All is the name of my Quirk… and it's a Quirk that I chose your son to have and passed on for him to continue the legacy of."

"Passed—Izuku, that's impossible."

He swallowed and turned, the couch shifting under his weight as he looked Mom in the eye. "It's true, Mom."

"A Quirk passed… passed on?"

"Transferrable, yes," Toshinori said. "A stockpiling Quirk, if you will, that has been passed on from generation to generation. It's a Quirk that my mentor gave me to have a chance at becoming a hero, and the same one I gave to Izuku with the same hopes."

"Oh, my," Mom said after a moment. Her eyes flickered from face to face. "Oh… my."

Izuku lifted his arms. For the first time since Kamino he had his Quirk fully back, and now he activated it. Mom watched, fascinated, as One for All traveled across scarred skin. The green light that had never appeared for All Might pulsed like sparks of electricity, twisting up his arm and over his hands to his fingers.

"It's beautiful," Mom murmured.

"It's his," Toshinori said.

"You gave your Quirk to him?"

Toshinori nodded. "I said this before, but I really believe in him. From the first day on."

"He always— thank you. For doing that for him."

And then Izuku opened his mouth and they quieted. He started to speak. He told them things he hadn't told anyone else, not even Kacchan. He told them how he'd felt that last day on the doorstep of his home, not knowing he wasn't going to come back for a long time yet. He got quiet when he told them about Hisashi, about Miss Guidance, Bonestealer. That he'd quickly learned who they really were and what they wanted to do, and how they'd taken his notebooks and his mutters and turned them into real plans, real targets.

Izuku smiled remembering Silver. Cold but slowly sympathetic. She'd taken care of him. No one else had been there to smooth back his hair or tell him terribly funny and possibly illegal stories. He'd told her about his dreams, and one day, she'd told him about hers.

The rest of the story they knew bits and pieces of, though not in its entirety. Meeting All Might under a bridge, receiving One for All. At the same time, though, a dream turned into a nightmare; Izuku applied to and was accepted to U.A. as a student, to act as an inside informant for the school and more importantly All Might.

His voice broke when he told them about USJ. Then the Sports Festival, Stain, that awful fight between Hisashi and Shigaraki and the Nomu in Hosu. Izuku couldn't put everything into the words, the feeling of his heart snagged between his teeth as he'd run, terrified in the night. He could never tell them that. When he got to Kamino, he stopped.

He couldn't tell Mom. She knew now, of course, about Akatani. And she could probably put together a few things from the news and maybe if Kacchan had said anything.

Not everything, not everything. Izuku couldn't voice how some of those years he'd felt like he was stumbling down the stairs with the lights out, tripping and missing steps, falling into the unknown.

Mom clutched his hand. Her eyes were dry now when she said, "You were very, very brave."

"No, I wasn't," Izuku said. He'd just been surviving.

"I think you were," Toshinori said, standing and putting his arms around Izuku. He blinked into the dark cloth of Toshinori's shirt as Mom put her arms around Izuku from the other side and they held him together. He'd heard that before. He'd been told that before.

Talking, like it always did, made him feel raw. Opened, turned inside out. But this time felt a little better. Next time would feel a little better.

Home was different than Izuku expected. There were so many clothes that didn't fit anymore. And it wasn't like this, surrounded by people who loved him.

Mom told Toshinori to stay for dinner. They argued over what was convenient as Izuku curled on the couch, and then Mom made a giant pot with packs of instant ramen for all of them. They made small talk between slurping noodles. After dinner Izuku returned to the couch, and Mom picked out a movie to watch. It was embarrassing most of the ones they had were about All Might, but Toshinori only laughed and told her to pick whatever she wanted.

It was only halfway through, leaning into Mom's side, that Izuku realized what movie it was. He hadn't been paying much attention because he couldn't stop thinking about how his feet stuck off the end of the couch and he didn't fit the way he used to. Also the clock on the wall was a little behind, and as the hand moved Izuku had watched it struggling endlessly to catch up.

He was suddenly wide awake as the scene shifted and the music quieted. _The Man in the Chamber._ He caught a glimpse of light bouncing off of twisting plastic tubes and squeezed his eyes shut. He carefully sank more into Mom's side. Despite his pounding heart, Izuku was good at pretending and breathed in slowly. In and out, until his heart calmed and it seemed he'd fallen asleep. But he could still hear, and Izuku found that after he closed his eyes the images he conjured behind them were worse than what he remembered on the screen.

"Oh," Mom said, hushed, somewhere above him.

"Is he asleep?"

"Izuku, dear." A hand stroked his hair. Izuku tensed, then tried to relax. He suddenly felt like crying. It was just Mom. It was just Mom. "I think so."

A rustle.

"Why don't I take him to his room? Down the hall, right?"

"Oh, you don't have to…"

"I've got him."

Izuku made himself stay limp and still as he felt arms slide under him, securely pulling him up. His head bounced against something. The sounds of the movie became more and more distant.

Halfway down the hall, Toshinori spoke. "Are you really asleep?"

He didn't want to respond, but Izuku said, "No."

Toshinori didn't stop, though Izuku thought he might. Instead he carried Izuku into his room.

"Do you want to watch the movie?"

Toshinori had noticed. He seemed to be better at noticing. He seemed to want to pay attention to Izuku. That was why Izuku finally cracked open his eyes as Toshinori set him on the bed.

"No," Izuku said truthfully.

"It looked like him."

"Yes," Izuku said. He bit his tongue. He hoped Toshinori didn't ask another question because then Izuku felt he would have to answer. He didn't want to talk about it.

"Okay," Toshinori said finally, sitting on the bed next to him, "do you want to talk about it?"

"No."

"Did you know…?"

"I didn't know— I didn't realize," Izuku said, stumbling over the words. "Can we talk about something else?"

"You have a nice room," Toshinori said, grinning sideways at him. "That's something else."

Izuku was aware the bed they were on had All Might-patterned bedsheets.

"I was a kid," he muttered, "and you were my hero."

"You're still a kid," All Might said, and there was something there. All Might put his hand on Izuku's shoulders. "You're still… you're still just a kid."

"You're still my hero," Izuku whispered. And that hadn't changed.


	49. Chapter 49

**Flare Signal** _  
chapter forty-nine [part two]_

* * *

Izuku spent the next few days with Mom. She'd taken time off work, and though Izuku certainly wasn't complaining he hadn't missed the way Tsukauchi had encouraged her to.

The longer he stayed, the longer he noticed.

Izuku couldn't help it. He'd been trained to notice. Miss Guidance had slipped him from shadow to shadow, then gripped his arm tightly as they explored completely open spaces without fear of being seen. She taught him places to look, when to pause and when to not, how seeing someone two times was a coincidence but three times was not.

He saw Eraserhead passing by their apartment three times before Izuku believed they were being watched.

For security. There was nothing that made Izuku believe they were in any kind of trouble, and Tsukauchi had swung by once or twice to report that they still had found nothing about Chimera. He'd returned Izuku's phone, too, though it was practically like new: a different phone number, the memory and everything saved on the phone wiped, everything reset. Just so Izuku could have something functional, Tsukauchi told him. The memory and SIM cards had all been confiscated.

But it put Izuku on edge. If he noticed, others would notice.

No one could agree on what to do next, though. They'd spend late evenings going over what they could do.

"We're like sitting ducks," Izuku argued, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Right now you're in a secure location with protection," Eraserhead said back, mirroring him. "You might have seen me, but you haven't seen the others."

"They'd know."

"We haven't seen _them_ show their faces."

Mom sighed. "What about… I mean, from my knowledge I know there's a witness protection program established, isn't there?"

"That's not a bad idea," Eraserhead mulled.

" _No,_ " Izuku burst. He drew back into himself when two pairs of eyes shot to him. He hadn't meant to yell. "I'm sorry."

"Why not?" Eraserhead asked, and Izuku was almost ashamed. But no one seemed upset.

"I don't want to hide behind another name," Izuku said. "Please. Not that."

Not again.

Eraserhead and Mom looked at each other. An understanding, a message, something passed between them that Izuku wasn't privy to. Mom blinked. Eraserhead looked back at Izuku.

"We'll just have to figure out something else, then," Eraserhead said.

The conversation continued, just like that. No more questions, and not another suggestion that involved Izuku taking on an identity that wasn't his own. It had been so easy that it was jarring. Izuku excused himself when they seemed to go in circles and retreated down the familiar, dark hallway to find refuge in the quiet. He wished he could live in the in-between.

His phone buzzed in his pocket. Izuku was slowly filling it with contacts; Mom was first, then Kacchan. Toshinori next. Tsukauchi. Eraserhead. Kacchan had sent over all of Class 1-A's contact information, so he'd plugged that in, too. And another number that he'd keep secret and to himself, for now.

It was just Kacchan today, though. Izuku hadn't reached out to his other classmates. He paused in the hall, wondering if he should.

Tomorrow, maybe.

He scanned the message Kacchan sent then went to his room and waited. A minute or two later a few knocks sounded against glass.

 _Deku._

Izuku opened the window, and Kacchan crawled in, landing on the ground. He looked around.

"You moved your bed," Kacchan said, "and your desk."

"I don't like to sleep under the window," Izuku mumbled. Habit. It was a habit now. "It's not as safe."

Kacchan peered at him.

"Couldn't you have gone through the front door?" Izuku asked, trying to steer him away from the topic of safety. "Mom said you had a key."

"Left it at home," Kacchan said lightly, then smiled.

He found a spot on Izuku's bed, and Izuku followed, shoving him so there was enough room to climb on, too. They shoved each other, wrestling playfully even though the bed was too cramped to do so, but Kacchan drew back when the play got too rough and Izuku winced from pain at his still healing wound.

"Does it hurt," Kacchan said in a low voice.

"You wouldn't have stopped if it didn't," Izuku said, turning on his good side. "It's okay, Kacchan."

"It's not," Kacchan said, dropping his head to lay in his arm. He looked over at Izuku. "You know, you owe me a lot of shit, Deku."

"Like what?"

Kacchan shrugged, or tried to. He didn't actually respond, though. Izuku let it go, content with just seeing Kacchan. He didn't get to see very many people, and if it was anyone besides Mom it was mostly for business purposes. He wondered if anyone knew Kacchan was here, then decided they'd probably let him come.

"Move," Izuku said, pushing Kacchan with his foot. Kacchan rolled over, then shifted so they were side-by-side. Like when they were kids, though this was a much tighter fit. "You take up too much space."

" _You_ take up too much space."

Kacchan propped himself up on his arm. Whatever smile had been on his face was gone now.

"Can I stay the night?"

Izuku didn't like it. He looked too serious, and almost unhappy. But Izuku swallowed his concern and pointed at the door. "Go ask Mom yourself."

But Kacchan kept his gaze on Izuku's face. "I was asking you."

"If you want to," Izuku whispered, and Kacchan slid off the bed and went to go ask Mom. Izuku flopped onto his back, then sat up, trudging to the bathroom. He needed to change his bandages.

They were hard to change, but Izuku didn't like asking Mom for help. He didn't want her to see— to see what had been done to him. To see what had been taken from him. She'd cried enough tears over him, he thought. She didn't need to shed any more.

Izuku tugged his shirt off carefully, dropping it on the floor. He twisted on the rim of the bathtub where he was carefully perched, turning so he could just catch his own reflection in the mirror. Carefully he began to tug at the bandages.

The door banged open. Izuku nearly fell into the bathtub.

"Kacchan!"

"Shit," Kacchan said, staring at him. Izuku found his balance, but his mouth ran dry. Kacchan's gaze moved from Izuku's face to his back, where there was white bandaging under Izuku's fingertips. "I'll… dammit."

"You can stay," Izuku told him gently, "if you… if you want."

Kacchan's throat bobbed when he swallowed, but he didn't take his eyes off of Izuku. He shut the bathroom door behind him, and Izuku realized he probably should have locked it. He hadn't expected anyone to come in.

Izuku went back to tugging frustratedly at his bandages like he had been doing. Kacchan watched him, and Izuku turned his head away so he didn't have to see the expression on Kacchan's face. There was the sound of movement behind him.

"Stop doing that, idiot," Kacchan grumbled, voice gruff. "You're totally doing it wrong."

"I've been doing it just fine."

"Hands off. You're terrible."

He didn't realize what Kacchan meant until hands replaced his, unraveling the bandaging around Izuku's torso. Kacchan worked quickly, touch light but movements a little rough. He wasn't Izuku's first choice for first aid. Not his last, though.

Kacchan worked in silence until the dressings had been removed, then said, "That's a hell of a scar, Deku."

"Yeah." Izuku twisted, catching part of his reflection in the mirror. He saw something angry and blotchy across the back of his ribs, spreading across his side, like the opposite of Toshinori's, and bile rose in his throat. He looked away. He didn't want to see to it.

"Do you… remember?"

Kacchan was careful. He began to wind the bandages, the gauze soft but tight, and Izuku stared into the bathtub.

It'd come back to him. The impact, not the fall. He remembered the fall.

The memories always came back at the worst of times. These things happened, the doctors told him. Small things could trigger memories in the places you least expected them to. Sometimes all it took was the right combination of words. A touch. A glimpse.

After Toshinori had left, the nightmares had claimed him. When Izuku closed his eyes to actually sleep, he found himself confronting a writhing darkness in his dreams. Tube after tube connected to a pulsing heart. A hand pressed on the back of his neck where Mom had put hers unknowingly.

The next morning Izuku had woken up on the floor, gasping silently. He'd reached for a knife that wasn't there. It'd taken him longer than he'd liked to remember where he was.

That All for One wasn't—

That though his side hurt from the impact, Izuku wasn't—

There wasn't any blood that morning, when Izuku had touched his back. There was pain, but it hadn't hurt as badly as when he'd looked into All Might's face for what might have been the last time. He'd lived.

"Deku."

"I remember," Izuku said.

"Do you want to?"

"I think I'd rather know," Izuku told him truthfully, "even if knowing…"

Kacchan finished. Izuku tipped back over the side of the bathtub and sat on the floor, hugging his knees. After a moment Kacchan squeezed between the toilet and the bathtub and sat next to him, and Izuku put his head on Kacchan's shoulder. Kacchan let him.

"Did I thank you?" Izuku said into the silence after a moment.

"Tch." Kacchan stretched his legs out but didn't move otherwise. "Thank _me._ "

Izuku lifted his head so he could look at Kacchan. "I mean it."

"You don't."

"I do."

And Kacchan looked at him, face tight, and said hoarsely, "Why?"

"You were there," Izuku said, touching Kacchan's palm. "You were there when it hurt. I was scared. But I remember I was glad you were with me, at least."

"I couldn't do it," Kacchan croaked, "what you wanted… I…"

"Don't, what, don't, I don't, but stop, stop," Izuku said, "Katsuki."

"I thought I'd lost you."

It was the kind of confession that could only happen on the bathroom floor as the sky darkened outside. It was the kind of confession that could only happen with their knees knocking together as they sat on cold tile. The kind of confession that came after bandages and healing wounds.

"You didn't," Izuku said.

"Do you remember what you said?"

Oh. "Not that part."

"You said you wanted to go home. You said, take me home." Izuku pressed closer so Kacchan had to take his weight, so Kacchan had to feel the rise and fall of Izuku's chest, a promise.

"I'm here."

Kacchan unwound his hand from where it was tangled somewhere underneath the mass of their two bodies. He knocked the side of Izuku's head, but not in a way that was meant to hurt.

"Are you here?"

"I don't know," Izuku admitted. He let his head drop forward, and Kacchan shifted, slinging an easy arm around him. "Is this still real?"

Kacchan's fingers touched the back of his neck, and Izuku tensed. Kacchan moved. He'd felt it, then.

"It's real."

"Okay," Izuku murmured, "good. Then that's enough for me."

They sat there for a while. It must have made for a sorry sight, the two of them squished tightly next to the toilet and pressed against the bathtub, hanging onto each other in the middle of the bathroom in the hall. But Izuku didn't want to move.

Izuku felt Kacchan's head move to rest on his shoulder. "Deku…"

There was a hushed shakiness in the way he said it that made Izuku tense. "What?"

"You—died, Izuku." Kacchan's hands slid across his back, warm against bare skin. "I was holding you and you…"

He heard the words distantly.

 _But I'm still here,_ Izuku wanted to say. He didn't, though. He didn't know what to say, because then for a moment he imagined their roles were reversed. How it must feel, how it must have been, to hold Kacchan and feel a heartbeat slow under his fingers slick with blood—

Izuku pulled back, pressing his forehead to the edge of the toilet, but he didn't do anything else. Bile rose in his throat.

"I shouldn't have told you."

" _You're_ sorry?" came out, high-pitched and fast before Izuku could stop himself. He turned, squinting at Kacchan. "You're… sorry? You… you did everything… I was so comforted, I was so—"

"Before they took you from me I thought I'd have to bring your… body home—"

"You did everything," Izuku said, meeting Kacchan's eyes. "I couldn't… you get it? I'm sorry I asked you. I'm sorry I put that on you. I shouldn't have but I was scared."

"Stop putting things on your shoulders," Kacchan said finally.

Sharing the burden with other people. Izuku had promised Toshinori he'd try, hadn't he? Kacchan was in arm's reach. Closer, even.

"I wish it didn't hurt so bad," Izuku said, for the both of them.

"If it hurts we're alive." Kacchan shifted. "If it feels like something we're alive. That's good, isn't it?"

"It's something, at least."

"A phoenix…" Kacchan murmured. His voice had gone soft and was lighter now than it had been before. Izuku took it as a good sign.

Kacchan dragged his arm roughly over his face, but Izuku had caught the glint in his eye.

"Are–" he paused, "you crying?"

Kacchan glared at him, eyes rimmed red. His voice was hoarse when he spoke, and low, maybe angry, maybe sad.

"Do I look weak to you, Deku?" But Kacchan ran a hand over his eyes again.

Izuku felt his face crack into a smile, the first in some time.

"Never," he promised.

They slept side-by-side that night, shoving for room until eventually they ended up half on top of each other. Izuku woke up to pale light from the moon pouring on Kacchan's face, the worried lines in his brow gone.

He left without waking Kacchan; it must have been the middle of the night, and Izuku figured he was probably the only one awake. After months of All Might's training regimen and years of sleeping lightly under threat, Izuku's habit was to wake early. But this was a little more than early.

He made a midnight snack for himself—nothing complicated, only butter spread over a slice of nearly-stale bread he found in a cupboard. After he'd finished, Izuku carefully tiptoed his way through the apartment and out the front door.

Izuku had been working on memorizing Eraserhead's schedule and his patrol, which often changed as to not fall into a pattern that was easily recognizable. He had a suspicion, though, that Eraserhead was still here, keeping watch.

He slipped outside, breathing in the night air. Izuku stepped to the edge of the railing and turned around, pressing his back to cold metal as he craned his neck to look at the roof.

"Eraserhead?"

He didn't think he'd actually get a response, but—

"Here."

There was movement, a shift of black against blackness. Izuku climbed up onto the railing and then easily leapt to the roof. Eraserhead was sitting, keeping careful watch over the streets.

"What are you doing, problem child," Eraserhead asked, glancing over as Izuku sat down. "Shouldn't you be asleep?"

Izuku shook his head. "Couldn't."

"Your mother let you come out?"

Izuku managed to crack a smile at that. "She's asleep. But if she knew, she'd be fine. I'd tell her I was with you."

Eraserhead scoffed.

"Such an easy trust you put in me."

Izuku drew his legs up to his chest. He wrapped his arms around them, resting his chin on his knees. It didn't completely get rid of the hollow, aching feeling in his chest, but it helped.

"Shouldn't I trust you?" Izuku asked. "I think… you were one of the first people to see me. Really see me."

Eraserhead didn't say anything for a long while. Izuku looked out at the rooftops, and it seemed to settle in for the first time that he'd come home.

"Why'd you come out here?"

Izuku sighed. "I don't know."

"You know you have heroes protecting you now," Eraserhead said, and Izuku gritted his teeth as his heart's thoughts were pried out into the open. "I know it might be hard to believe, but… you're safe, Izuku."

Izuku closed his eyes. The night air caressed his skin gently, weaving through his hair like some old god's fingers.

"Everyone keeps saying that," he admitted. "And I know that, I just…"

He opened his eyes and found Eraserhead watching him.

"It's like…" Izuku waved his hands, trying to explain. "It's like, I spent a really long time not feeling safe. I had to look over my shoulder all the time. And I had to— do some really, really bad things, and it wasn't fair, and it wasn't the right thing to do. I had to make- to, to make those choices, and I don't know if I always made the right ones."

Eraserhead looked like he wanted to interrupt, but he waited for Izuku to continue.

"And now it's… it's n-not over, but things are a lot better than they were. I keep waiting for all of this to go away, or for Chimera to come back, because they're… they will. I know they will."

"Midoriya."

Izuku's eyes burned. He buried his head in his knees and let himself cry for a little bit, even if he didn't want to, not in front of Eraserhead.

"Izuku."

Eraserhead wrapped his hand around Izuku's wrist.

"You have been incredibly strong, you know that?" Izuku shook his head. "And you have been fighting for so long, trying to keep other people safe. That's the quality of a hero… but you're still young. Let us help you. Let us fight for you, for once."

Izuku pressed the heel of his palm to his wet eyes. Eraserhead's voice came low and steady, something to anchor himself to.

"You don't have to be the protector anymore. You're not alone anymore. Someone has to protect you, too."

Then Eraserhead did something he'd never done before. He moved closer, gently moving Izuku's hands away from his face. Then, after a moment of hesitation and studying Izuku's face, Eraserhead put his arms around Izuku in a hug.

"I don't know how to make it better," Izuku whispered, face pressed to rough cloth.

"You just have to wait," Eraserhead said. "It gets better. It will. I promise."

And hadn't it been getting better?

"Aizawa-sensei." And Eraserhead wrapped his arm a little tighter around Izuku's shoulders.

Hadn't it been getting better?

"I promise," Eraserhead murmured, and Izuku thought to himself, _yes, it has._


	50. Chapter 50

**Flare Signal** _  
chapter fifty_

* * *

Izuku was hiding in the hall.

He didn't mean to be, of course. Force of habit, Izuku supposed; eavesdropping was a trait that Mom probably wasn't going to be proud of, but it was one that was ingrained in Izuku nonetheless.

He'd woken up much later than he was used to, to Izuku's surprise. He tried not to feel too uneasy about it, because it meant he'd missed something. But he was recovering. It was fine. He'd have to get back into the habit.

It was just hard to shake the feeling of wrongness from his shoulders. He felt off, kind of like after you'd fall asleep in a bad position and wake up to find a crook in your neck. It was the same thing, but with a bad feeling. Izuku splashed his face a few times with cold water as he was getting ready, trying to dispel the feeling.

It was going to be a bad day. He rubbed his arms but the notion didn't leave him.

When Izuku crept out of his empty room to find Mom—or Kacchan, if he hadn't left—he'd heard their voices from the kitchen. If Izuku slid close to the end of the hall, he could just see them without being seen himself.

"...Friday," Kacchan was saying, "so I did the usual thing, and while I was out there I asked Aizawa-sensei if we might—"

"Katsuki," Mom said.

They were standing together preparing food. Izuku's stomach rumbled, but he stayed in place. Just observing for another second. Another moment.

"Well, what do you think of," Kacchan said, and the next bit was unintelligible because the rice cooker beeped loudly. Izuku frowned.

"I think it'll be good," Mom replied cheerfully. "I hope it'll make Izuku happy."

They were so—easy together. Like they'd been doing it for years, and it struck Izuku then that maybe they had. Kacchan was happy to chop vegetables as Mom scooped out rice, pinching a bit between her fingers and humming happily. They worked together, a solid team.

For some reason something ugly stirred in Izuku's stomach. A flash of hot jealousy.

He felt like sometimes Mom was walking on eggshells around him. He felt like sometimes he couldn't quite reach her the way he used to, because they were different people now. He felt like— well, he hadn't felt like this, like what he was seeing. He didn't know how.

Then Izuku felt guilty for thinking of it, Kacchan and Mom like this. They were close. Sure. He should have expected something like it; without him here, this looked like a sort of routine they could have fallen into. Kacchan was practically Mom's other son, just like Izuku had nearly been adopted into the Bakugou family. Izuku _shouldn't_ have felt anything like he did, but he couldn't help how his stomach was curdling.

He wanted to be there. He was meant to be there.

He missed a part of the conversation, but it seemed to have turned. Kacchan leaned against the counter, watching Mom as she put something together.

"...you think Deku…"

"I'm just worried, that's all," Mom said, turning her back to Kacchan and wiping her hands on her apron. "I'm always worried. It's nothing, dear."

"You don't think he's— okay?"

"I don't think he's unhappy." Mom paused, stopped. "I think he's just… adjusting. It must be difficult for him, that's why I thought, well. And I tried to talk to him a few nights ago. He's opened up wonderfully about it all, but I think there's still— some things he's holding back. Because he thinks it'll hurt more than help."

"He's good at hiding things." Then Kacchan added, "Idiot."

"He's trying. And I'm very proud of him for it. I can tell he's not… used to it." Mom sighed. "It's like there's a glass wall between us, and I'm knocking against it but I can't quite get through. I see him through it."

Kacchan kicked at the floor. He was scowling. "Wish I could just do _more._ "

Mom went to him. She kissed him on the cheek. Then she patted his shoulder.

"You matter," she told him, "and you matter to Izuku."

Kacchan watched her turn back with a strange expression on his face. Izuku's stomach churned. But the jealousy had faded and morphed into a sort of melancholy. There was something in their words that had a bittersweet taste by the way they were saying things. There was something in their words that opened up a pit of yearning, and sadness, because they were reaching out for Izuku and he kept slipping in and out of their grasp.

He shuffled into the kitchen before he could stop himself. He wanted to be a part of it.

"Hi," Izuku mumbled, and Kacchan's head snapped towards him. Mom smiled widely when she saw him, the brightness in her eyes genuine.

"Sleep well?" she asked.

Izuku made a noncommittal noise. It'd been alright. He'd had nightmares that had eventually dissipated. He'd woken up twice, twisting in Kacchan's arms, sweat clinging to his skin. Izuku had dreamed of Hisashi. Gold. Fire. Instead Izuku slid into the spot next to Mom.

"What are you making?"

And on the counter was a basket, a blanket folded inside. A set of bento boxes.

"And what's all… this?"

"Onigiri," Mom said, showing the ball of rice between her hands. "I was thinking I could decorate them with little faces, but Katsuki said I shouldn't. What do you think?"

"Uh," Izuku said, "that sounds like a lot of work?"

"I suppose," Mom said, and continued. "I used to make these for you, for lunch."

"You put happy faces on all of them." Mom beamed because he'd remembered. "I probably never appreciated them as much as I should've."

"Yeah, because you ate them in two seconds," Kacchan said. He'd migrated to sitting on top of the counter. Izuku made a face at him. "Don't pretend like that's not true. You practically inhaled those things."

"A testament to Mom's cooking," Izuku said. "Do you need any help?"

"Oh, no," Mom said, "have some water, hm? You slept in a little. Katsuki was kind enough to get groceries and help me prep."

"Oh," Izuku said. That jealousy, again. He forced it down. "Okay. Um, prep for what?"

"We're going out," Kacchan answered, when Mom didn't. "I asked Eraserhead and he said he could accompany us. Figured you could use some fresh air or something."

"Out… out of the house?"

Kacchan rolled his eyes. "That's generally what going out means, Deku."

"Katsuki," Mom admonished.

"Sorry."

"You're not sorry," Izuku said, and enjoyed the way Kacchan grinned. He wasn't sorry. But Izuku didn't take any offense. It was nice.

"To the beach, Izuku," Mom continued, when Kacchan proved to be unhelpful. "We've been cooped up in the apartment for a while. I was a bit concerned about safety, of course, but Eraserhead will be coming, and he said he thought you would like it."

"Dagobah?"

"That's the one." Mom smiled. "I'm glad it's clean now."

Izuku coughed. He remembered his aching muscles and spending long days lugging trash at the beach.

"Uh," he said, "yeah."

"Hey," Kacchan said, narrowing his eyes, "didn't you—"

"Moving on," Izuku said hurriedly. "So a picnic? That sounds nice."

Kacchan pointed at his eyes and then at Izuku, like, _I'm watching you._ Izuku stuck his tongue out, and Kacchan did it back, until they were making silly faces at each other from across the kitchen while Mom stood unawares.

"It will be," Mom said decisively.

And it was. Eraserhead was a quiet shadow tagging along as they chased each other across the sand. Mom spread out the picnic blanket, then gestured for everyone—strongarming Eraserhead into joining them—to eat. They ate, and the onigiri was just as good as Izuku remembered, if not better. And Izuku made a joke that sent Kacchan howling and a quick grin flash across Eraserhead's voice.

Going to the beach, to Dagobah, was… something Izuku hadn't known he'd needed. He loved being home. He loved the apartment. But being here drained some hidden tension from his shoulders.

After lunch Kacchan dragged Izuku to the water's edge. They splashed each other while Mom watched, until Izuku's shorts were wet and they were laughing.

"Are you okay?"

Izuku looked up dizzily from where he'd landed in the sand, having tripped over his own feet. Kacchan nudged him with a foot, but his eyes said the question wasn't about the fall. Izuku got up, brushing himself off. He looked out at the ocean, the calm plane of deep blue.

"I'm getting there," Izuku said slowly, pondering the question. His voice sounded distant in his own ears. "I don't know."

Kacchan slid his hand into Izuku's.

The way he had in the dark, at Kamino. The way he had the night before, when he'd thought Izuku had fallen asleep. Izuku knew the feel of them, the touch, the warmth.

Kacchan didn't say anything else, but he didn't really need to.

"You said it was like the ocean," Kacchan said, out of nowhere. His eyes were trained on the water. "One for All. You said it was like the ocean."

"To me," Izuku said. He pointed with his free hand at a swimmer in the distance. "It's like you're surrounded by water. It's like you're floating, and it's all around you, and if you're not careful you might sink. Like… beautiful, and deep. And neverending. I think that's how I can describe it."

"It didn't feel like that to me," Kacchan said.

"It didn't?"

"I still _have_ it," Kacchan said. He stretched his arms out. "Well, a little. Talked to All Might. He said it was normal."

"Well, yeah," Izuku said, "like, he gave it to be before U.A. But I think some of it remains in you, kind of like a well, I guess. And you can keep drawing water out of it for a while, but eventually it'll run dry."

"Huh."

"Yeah."

"So, theoretically, I can punch really, really hard."

"Not theoretically, Kacchan. You _can_ punch really, really hard." Izuku dipped his foot back into the water. "Well, don't try it on me, anyway. And you don't need One for All to pack a hard punch."

"I'll save it, then," Kacchan said, mulling over the prospect.

"I'm terrified."

Kacchan grinned. Izuku bumped his shoulder, which led into a playful tussle that turned into a game of chase as Izuku slid out of Kacchan's grasp and ran like hell. No Quirks, of course, but Izuku found himself winded quickly, his side hurting, so Kacchan eventually got to him. They collapsed in the sand during midday, though the clouds had poured in and covered all the sunshine. Izuku sat up, Kacchan propped up on his elbows next to him.

"Are you scared?"

Izuku's stomach flipped. "Why?"

"You said you were. Before. Are you still scared?"

Izuku smiled cheekily. "I'm always scared," he said. "But— if you're really asking, less scared. I've got you, haven't I? And you can punch really, really hard."

"I'll punch _you_ really, really hard," Kacchan muttered, but he turned his gaze to Izuku's face. His voice dropped. "But… yeah. You've got me."

Over the water, a bird dipped down, skimming the surface. Foam burst up around it before it pulled up again, soaring with the wind. Izuku watched it, peering at the large form, the dark pattern across its wings, its beauty and grace.

"An albatross," Kacchan offered.

The albatross lifted, pulling up into the sky, into the clouds. As it left, Izuku felt something in his heart soften as he watched the bird grow smaller and begin to disappear, pale white dissolving into the color of the horizon.

Kacchan reached up, gripping Izuku's knee. He tightened his fingers and said, "Are you sorry?"

"It's here," Izuku said, tapping his chest. The guilt. "All of it. It's here."

Kacchan didn't say anything else, but he did knock his hand against Izuku's leg in a pattern.

 _Let it go,_ he said.

When Mom finally called them back to leave, Izuku saw Eraserhead murmur a goodbye before slipping his phone in his pocket. He slid next to him.

"Phone call?"

"Principal Nedzu," Eraserhead said, and Izuku's curiosity piqued. Eraserhead flicked Izuku's head. "I'll tell you later."

By later, apparently, Eraserhead meant as soon as they got home. They got dinner on the way, Izuku not even realizing it was evening. Kacchan made to leave after that, but Eraserhead told him he might as well stay.

"Over the past couple of days the U.A. faculty has been discussing some potential… parameters for the upcoming semester," Eraserhead told them, locking his fingers in front of him. "We want to implement a dormitory system for the students. Because of all of the events of the past year and the target on the students, we believe keeping them at U.A. will provide a more secure and safer way for students to live and continue their education."

"Dorms, hah?" Kacchan said. He hooked his legs around his chair and leaned back. "Alright."

Izuku's gaze flickered to Mom. She looked at him.

"I'm… not sure," Mom said for the both of them. Then she said, "It does sound like a good idea, though. I want my son to be safe."

That wasn't—

"Mom," Izuku said, voice tense.

Dorms? They wanted Izuku to live in dorms? He didn't like the idea. He thought about being quartered with all the other students in 1-A, none of whom knew who he actually was. He thought about leaving home and felt sick. They wanted him to pack up his things again and move.

"Is there a problem?"

"You can't ask me to do that," Izuku said, shaking his head, "you can't be serious. I can't."

Eraserhead leaned forward. "It's for your safety. We believe it's the best option—especially for you, Midoriya. It's easier for us to protect you."

Protect him from what?

"I'm never safe!" Izuku snapped, and Kacchan recoiled. Mom reached out, then drew back a little. He saw their reactions and felt a little knot of guilt form. "I'm sorry. I know. But you can't ask me to… do that."

Kacchan's chair came back down with a crash. Izuku flinched, and Kacchan met his gaze across the table.

"What?" Kacchan asked.

"It's getting late," Mom said tentatively, "maybe we should talk about this again in- in the morning. Tomorrow."

Izuku's side pulsed. He was wrong. It was wrong. Everything was all wrong, even though Izuku was _trying_ , he was trying so hard and still—

And still Izuku looked at the faces of people who weren't quite believing him, who didn't understand. And he thought about what his father had said, and what Izuku had dreamed about night after night even though he'd tried to stave it off.

The inevitability. The path in front of Izuku. His thoughts dipped, then spiralled, and at his sides Izuku's hands turned into tight fists.

"You're asking me to leave," Izuku said hoarsely. He stared at the table. "I can't. I'm sorry."

"I don't understand," Eraserhead said gently. "Let me try."

"I just got home," Izuku said, struggling not to burst into tears again. He hated crying. He looked around and saw understanding dawn on the faces around him. Horror. "She told me. She said I wasn't coming back."

Waiting. She was waiting for him. The back of his neck prickled.

Mom's face pinched. "Who—"

"I'm going to have to refuse," Izuku said, and he stood, the chair scraping. "I don't want to live anywhere but here. Not after I spent years wondering if I'd ever see this place again."

He fled before anyone could catch him and slammed the door to his room shut. Distantly he could hear Mom and Kacchan, voices raising, calling, talking. He didn't want to talk.

In his pocket, his phone buzzed. Izuku took it out and stared at the message, then shut his phone off and threw it across the room hard. It cracked against the wall, hitting All Might right in the face before falling to the ground, but Izuku didn't bother retrieving it.

It wasn't the dorms.

It was the dorms that made Izuku upset, but it wasn't… really the dorms. He sat with his back against the door and thought.

 _It gets better,_ Eraserhead promised.

But this morning Izuku had felt worse. He knew. They might not have known, might not even know now, but Izuku knew.

Staying here, staying home was selfish. He was making trouble. He was being difficult. He was— he was putting Mom in danger, he thought, and the clarity of the thought burned inside of him.

He pulled his knees up to his chest. Across the room the window stared at him tauntingly. Across the room All Might watched from his posters, his legacy heavy on Izuku's shoulders, and Izuku's skin itched. He was being unreasonable. He was being stupid. And useless.

He'd gotten everything he wanted in the end. He was home. He had Mom, and Kacchan. He had One for All. He had Toshinori, and Eraserhead, and Tsukauchi. Why didn't it feel— why did Izuku _still—_

He yelled, pulling something randomly off his desk and throwing it to the ground.

Someone pounded on the door.

"Izuku?" he heard distantly, like through a dream. Evening sank in across the sky, and he stared out the window, stopping. "Izuku, will you let me in?"

He couldn't.

It was in his blood, Izuku thought. Villainry. It was in his _blood._ He wasn't safe, and no one was safe from _him._ He stared at his hands, and lit them with an illusion, fire pulling across his fingers faster and faster until his hands looked red.

He thought he had gone into Kamino as one person and emerged another. Something in the darkness had changed him. When All for One sank his teeth into Izuku, blood dripping, he'd taken something from Izuku and in its place put a sliver of the dark in him. Izuku could feel it.

He wanted to get better. Izuku felt himself getting worse.

Izuku turned in put his forehead against the door, gasping. On the other side, he could see Mom's shadow still there underneath the door.

"Izuku," she said.

"Mom…"

"Let me in," Mom pleaded. "It's just me, baby. Let me in."

Izuku put a hand against the wood. He felt his fingers move of their own volition to the door handle, felt them wrap around cool brass, felt his hand push down and something click.

The door opened and Izuku thought he must have fallen into Mom's arms. She wrapped her arms around him, and Izuku shook silently. They sat together on the floor, and Izuku cried into her arms. For minutes. Maybe even for hours, but she was patient with him.

"I'm sorry it hurts," Mom said, "I'm not going to leave you."

"It— they're not going to stop, Mom," Izuku whispered. "Because I'm supposed to be, I'm one of them."

Izuku screwed his eyes shut.

"Look at me." He shook his head, burying his face into Mom's shirt and breathing in a scent he'd long forgotten. "Please look at me, baby. Look at me."

Izuku wrapped his arms around Mom and squeezed tight. He shut his eyes and pressed his face to the soft fabric of her clothes.

"Izuku," and her voice gave him no room to argue, to Izuku looked at her. "Tell me."

"What if everyone's wrong?"

"About what?"

"That I'm… good."

Mom shook his shoulders, almost frantically. She looked into his face. "Listen to me. Listen to me, Izuku, I know you."

But— that morning in the kitchen…

She shook him again. "I know you, Izuku. Not everything. But I'll be damned because I raised you, do you understand, Izuku? Mom doesn't lie to you."

"No," Izuku whispered, "you don't."

"Then I'm telling you the truth," she said fiercely, "you are so strong. You have been so strong and you did it. You did it all by yourself, braveheart."

"I don't even know who I am." He wasn't the same person who'd stood on the doorstep of the apartment five years ago. And he wasn't the same person who'd stood in front of U.A. And he wasn't the same person after Kamino. After coming home.

Mom's gaze was intense.

"You are my son." Her voice strong, sure. So sure. "You are _my_ son, not his. He might have tried but he couldn't change you, Izuku. I know you're not a villain. I know you're not a villain, do you understand? Everyone knows this, but I know it better than any person out there, do you hear me? He knew that and that was why he tried. But you're my son."

"Yes," Izuku breathed.

"You were my hero first," Mom said, eyes shining as she cupped his face. "And you will always, always be."

"Okay."

"Do you believe me?"

"Okay," Izuku said again, because he really wanted to, this time. He uncurled his body, testing his weight against the floor. "You don't have to stay, Mom."

"You're sure?"

"I need to think."

She understood. Of course.

"I love you," he murmured. Mom's arms tightened around him for a moment and then loosened again.

"I love you, too." She kissed his forehead. "Goodnight, Izuku."

Izuku shut his door and sucked in a shaky breath. He pressed his ear to the door, listening to the sound of distant footsteps as Mom went back down the hall. There was the creak of her door, then the soft click as it shut.

He stood still in the dark until the house settled. Until the only thing Izuku could hear was his own breathing and his heartbeat in his ears.

Izuku crossed over to his bed, reaching underneath for the full backpack. He slid on his jacket, then tugged the hood low over his face. He put on the pair of boots he'd stowed away. He retrieved his phone, finding the screen cracked.

Then Izuku unlatched the window and pushed the panel up. Cold air swept into the room, crisp and clear.

Izuku swung a leg over the windowsill and paused when he thought he heard a noise from inside. A second. Two. Nothing.

He checked his phone again—there weren't any new messages, just the time. A little past midnight, when the sky was deep and endless, and the world was quiet.

Izuku opened his message history again and reread what he'd been sent.

 _ **Unknown Number 8:31 PM**_ _  
U.A. would look so pretty burned to ash._

He cast one more fleeting look inside his room and found a lump forming in his throat. There were his All Might posters, an old hero analysis journal, a childhood toy. On his desk sat a little row of All Might figurines, lined up neatly along the edge. He wasn't taking any of them with him.

Then Izuku twisted out of the window, catching himself and shutting it. In minutes he would be gone, and by the time anyone realized, it would be too late.

Izuku stood looking at his childhood home for another moment more. Then he turned his back on it and slipped away into the endless night.


	51. Chapter 51

**Flare Signal** _  
chapter fifty-one_

* * *

The first time Izuku had seen U.A. it had been in sunlight. Shimmering glass windows arced endlessly upward into the clear sky. He and Kacchan had peered in through the front, hopeful and sure of their future here. The bold letters of U.A. on the buildings had filled him with a sense of longing.

Now, creeping through the darkened halls, all Izuku could feel was fear. He'd left his things somewhere after walking in, opting to keep only the set of knives strapped to him, hidden from sight. Right in reach, in case he needed it.

There was very little light in the building—just moonlight trickling in from a stray window or two as Izuku left no trace of himself. A power outage, he'd gathered, or some similar tactic. The perfect, unsuspecting excuse to break in without setting off any alarms.

At the edges of Izuku's hearing, static crackled. Soft, like the sound was from a searching radio hidden in a distant room. The noise made the hairs on his arms raise; he glanced around, but there was nothing to it.

A light. Izuku swallowed his fear and followed it into the auditorium. The doors shut behind him, echoing loudly, but Izuku didn't care. He was too enraptured by the lone figure sitting center-stage, peering across at him.

They were waiting for him.

Miss Guidance stood when Izuku entered. In the auditorium, built for building sound, the click of her heels sounded like talons tapping against the ground.

"Izuku," she said, smiling broadly. "I'm so glad you could join us. It's good to see you again."

His feet were moving, carrying him closer and closer, until he could see how the light bounced off of the glimmering golden threads in her suit, the sheen in her hair, the gleam in her eyes.

"I can't say the same," Izuku said finally, and she laughed. The sound rang in his ears until his head hurt. There was something—different in the look she gave him. It reminded him of All for One.

Miss Guidance beckoned him to join her. Izuku didn't know why he did.

"For a while we weren't certain you'd made it," she said, lips curved, "but your father has his suspicions. And you'd run away so suddenly, Izuku! It wasn't very polite of you."

"Polite is the last thing I want to be," Izuku said. He kept his gaze on her but looked beyond at his peripherals—but there was no sign of Hisashi or even Bonestealer.

Or Silver.

"Are you done playing hero?"

Izuku trembled. "What do you want?"

A flash of white teeth, again. Miss Guidance stepped closer, and Izuku saw his vision fill with her, nothing at the edges but black and white.

"You have something I want," Miss Guidance said, "something the League wanted. Don't you think it's funny, Izuku? All for One, seemingly infinite in power yet dethroned in one night. You should never trust the one who wears a crown."

All for One. _All for One._ She knew— something. She knew him.

"Whatever- whatever you want…" Izuku said, head throbbing, "what- I won't give it to you. I- I won't."

Miss Guidance barked out another laugh. "Oh, you won't be giving it to me, dear boy," she said, "I would never believe you would give One for All to me willingly. I have never been disillusioned—your tricks hardly work on me even if you managed to fool your father. You draw the shadowed cloak over yourself, but there's still a candle burning somewhere inside. I can _see_ it."

She was too close. She knew too much. The fear choked him.

Of the three heads of Chimera Izuku had always known the least about her; and that made her dangerous. There was something more she knew that he didn't, some game of chess she was playing that he couldn't even see the board of, or any of the pieces. Invisible strings pulled at his chest, threading through his heart.

He swallowed dryly.

"How… how do you know about One for All?"

"What matters," Miss Guidance said, "is that there are many people vying for that empty throne, do you see? And you… you with your _power_ , you'll make sure that throne is ours."

His fingers brushed the side of the knife hilt. But he didn't know— he didn't understand…

"Why?"

It was the first time Miss Guidance had ever looked confused.

"Why?" she repeated, and Izuku thought he saw Silver in her expression, the way her eyes narrowed. "There is no _why_ I think you would ever understand. There is only want."

"I won't do it," Izuku said, fingers closing around the hilt of the knife. His heart pounded in his chest. "I- I refuse."

A storm swept through her gold-flecked eyes. Then Miss Guidance blinked, and all expression was gone, just a coldness, a blank expanse. She tilted her head and studied him.

"Then why are you here?"

"I—"

Sweat trickled down the back of his neck. A sudden fear chilled him to the bone. And there, hissing, the crackle of static. Miss Guidance seemed to see right through him, like her gaze alone had turned him into a ghost.

"I came to say goodbye," Izuku said finally, and felt his hand moving, felt his fingers sure around the knife—

Pain splintered around his wrist. Nails, gold paint chipping, dug into his skin. He stilled.

"Yes, Izuku," Miss Guidance said. "Yes… it's time."

Bonestealer appeared somewhere behind her. And then—Hisashi, eyes dark and bottomless, rings of smoke pouring from his mouth. He met Izuku's gaze. Something fleeting raced through Hisashi's eyes before it disappeared, swallowed, gone.

He tried to run. He couldn't. Izuku tried desperately to jerk his hand free of Miss Guidance's grasp but couldn't.

Miss Guidance met his gaze, and Izuku's blood ran cold. Static. Static loud in his ears, not from anything around him, not from anything real but from somewhere… somewhere within. And the world shuddered, and Izuku blinked in the face of a nightmare. He remembered—

He'd felt _this—_

Tilt. Shift and change.

The fingers around his wrist squeezed tightly, and the knife slipped from his fingers. He couldn't look away. Miss Guidance shut her eyes, and when she opened them again they were molten gold.

 _Khhz—khhhhrzz… … kr—_

Just between them, she said, "You are the lock."

It was a bit like falling. It was a bit like going underwater, submerged, surrounded, and everything became more distant all at once. When Izuku tried to scream he found that his control had vanished. His lips hadn't even moved.

Miss Guidance leaned in. " _I_ am the key."

Some distant part of Izuku was screaming, clawing against the loss. She beckoned. He moved against his will.

 _Khhhz… kh- khhrr—_

 _Khh—_

As the darkness wrapped around him there came the realization that the feeling was not unfamiliar. That she had done this before. That there were things Izuku did not remember.

That there was something hiding in himself Izuku had not known existed, and it scared him.


	52. Chapter 52

**Flare Signal** _  
interlude vi_

* * *

Midoriya Inko called him at two in the morning crying.

Katsuki groaned when the phone rang. He groped blindly for it in the dark and answered without bothering to check the ID, voice thick with sleep.

"What—"

" _Katsuki, dear, it's me."_

All thoughts of murdering the caller and going back to sleep vanished. Katsuki sat up, shoving his blankets aside. He pressed speakerphone and let it run as he dug out an old All Might jacket. The only reason Auntie Inko would call him at five in the morning was if something happened.

Firelight on Deku's face; his blood in Katsuki's hands.

"What's wrong with Deku?"

Auntie Inko sniffed on the other end. There was a low voice in the background, then—

"Katsuki, dear, is, is Izuku… _with_ you?"

Her voice caught strangely on the word _with_. Like she was begging him.

"No," he grunted into the phone. He grabbed his keys. Auntie Inko's voice was muffled as she spoke to someone else, but he could still hear the panic in it.

" _He said Izuku's not, no… maybe you should call someone, maybe All Might…"_

Aizawa-sensei was probably with her then, since he was one of the heroes who'd volunteered to keep watch for the time being. Good. She wasn't alone. She'd been alone long enough.

"Auntie Inko?"

It hadn't been Deku on the phone. It hadn't been Deku who'd called.

" _Katsuki,_ " she said, " _maybe you should come over._ "

 _Maybe you should come over._ She said it in the same way she'd said it five years ago. _Maybe you should come over_ , the time she'd taken his hands and gently told him Deku wasn't coming back.

Katsuki ran.

He didn't bother being quiet. Katsuki nearly tripped over the couch and might've broken something as he raced for the door, and a few seconds later light flooded in from his parent's bedroom. He cursed, yanking the door open, but then Mom was there.

"The _hell_ are you doing at this hour—"

"Auntie needs me!" he yelled, right in her face, and then Katsuki was out the door.

A hand snagged the back of his shirt. He turned, fists sparking, but Dad gave him a look. He bared his teeth.

"If it's Inko I'm going," Mom said, and he blinked. The surprise melted away, but he'd forgotten he wasn't the only person who cared about the lonely woman down the street.

"It's not just her it's Deku," Katsuki said, and Mom stopped in the middle of getting her bag.

"Hurry the fuck up!" he snapped. Mom's eyes narrowed.

Dad's brow furrowed. "Izuku…?" He exchanged a look with Mom. "Son, Izuku…"

"—isn't dead," Katsuki fumed, "but something's happening, so if you're not ready in the next _two seconds_ I'm fucking leaving you behind."

They went over together without any more arguing.

Katsuki unlocked the door and walked in without fanfare. Mom didn't bother taking off her shoes, striding past him into the main area where Auntie Inko was standing, talking to Aizawa-sensei and All Might. Auntie Inko's eyes were red. Aizawa-sensei's mouth was pressed into a hard line.

But All Might looked like Katsuki felt.

Mom didn't demand details like Katsuki expected her to. She didn't stop to stare at his teachers. She marched straight through the middle of the conversation and cupped Auntie Inko's face—sternly, in a way, like she wanted Auntie Inko to look at her, but still with a gentleness rarely seen.

"Inko."

She didn't say anything else. Mom's back was to Katsuki, so he couldn't see what passed between the two of them, but he saw Auntie Inko's face. Stricken, crumbling. They'd been friends for longer than Katsuki had been alive. It seemed then that moment that there was a kind of intimacy—soft but unyielding, quiet but present. One that Katsuki was certain was not meant to be seen but something that was hard to look away from.

Auntie Inko threw her arms around Mom and wept into her shirt. Mom wasn't a comfort-giver; Katsuki had never been much of a comfort-seeker, but he saw her rest her cheek against Auntie Inko's hair. Something pulled at his heart.

Dad came from behind and put a hand on Katsuki's shoulder.

"What's going on?"

All Might ran a tired hand over his face. Mom was still holding Auntie Inko, but she turned to listen.

"He ran away."

Aizawa-sensei's voice was clipped. He crossed his arms. All Might sighed at him.

Katsuki shrugged off Dad's hand and said, "What do you mean, he _ran away?_ "

His head spun.

"We don't know that," All Might said finally, interrupting. "He's missing."

" _What?_ "

All Might's gaze flicked pointedly to Katsuki before he could open his mouth again, and then his eyes traveled downwards. Katsuki followed his gaze unwittingly and saw light spiraling down his arms. He took a step back, breathing heavily, and forced the remaining sparks of One for All down.

"We're not sure what happened, exactly," Aizawa-sensei continued, and the flash of his eyes told Katsuki he'd use his Quirk if he had to. "From my understanding sometime between nine o'clock and now Midoriya left the premises, and there's been no sign of him."

"Weren't _you_ —"

"Katsuki," came Auntie Inko's voice.

"I _know_ my shortcomings," Aizawa-sensei snapped, then rocked back on his heels. "I failed. I know. And I'm _sorry._ "

Auntie Inko stepped out of Mom's arms. From the look on her face she'd heard this before.

"No," she said, eyes blazing. "I've had enough of apologies. Every person has told me they are sorry. I don't need to hear me. Trust me when I say that sorry doesn't bring a son back."

Katsuki was tired of hearing people talk after that. He pushed through the apartment and headed to Deku's room. Flicked the light on. The room was like it had been, but as Katsuki flung open the closet and looked through, he noticed there were a few things missing, too.

So Deku had taken stuff with him. Katsuki growled. He flipped the covers on the bed and saw nothing. He went to the window and ran his finger along the windowsill. Cool air blew against skin, and Katsuki squatted, seeing a crack in the window where it hadn't fully shut.

And so he'd left. Stolen away through the night. Disappeared without a sound, without a trace, without Katsuki knowing the same way he had— the same way he _had._ He had done. Katsuki saw him then every time, climbing through his window, disappearing at the edge of Katsuki's vision, another face in the crowd.

He knocked his fist against the glass. Then Katsuki crossed to the desk, pulling drawers, searching.

"We looked," All Might said from the doorway, and the rush of anger made Katsuki want to knock the row of figurines off the desk. He didn't, if only because All Might was watching him, and Deku liked them. He wanted to scream. He didn't. He just kept looking.

"Maybe," Katsuki hissed, "maybe…"

Maybe if Katsuki looked he would find something. Maybe if Katsuki had been here. Maybe if. Maybe if— maybe _if_ —

"Don't think about it like that," All Might said gently. He was still watching Katsuki, brows together.

"Don't know what you're on about, old man," Katsuki growled, then said, "sorry."

All Might took it in stride. "I recognize the look on your face, young Bakugou. I know." He smiled tightly. "I thought if I had been here perhaps I could have stopped him. If I had known earlier I could have found him. I could have told him just one more time that he wasn't alone. Just… one more time."

"And then what?" He bit his lip then took a step towards the door. "I should be— out there. Helping."

All Might blocked him, pressing a hand to Katsuki's shoulder and pushing him back a little bit. He sat on the bed and then patted the space next to him, and Katsuki didn't have a choice.

"Where would he go?"

The question startled him. He looked at All Might blankly.

"You _know_ him," All Might said, "perhaps best of all of us. Where would he go?"

"I… I don't know."

And that terrified Katsuki.

His mind was empty, like someone had poured out its contents. He didn't know. It was the same fear—

After Kamino, there'd been a point when Katsuki had looked at Deku and thought, _I don't know._ There was an unshakable fear that his friend had become a stranger. Time when Katsuki had thought back on every interaction in his childhood and then as Akatani, and he wondered if he had known, or understood any of him at all.

"He," Katsuki said, "wouldn't have gone unless he thought he didn't have a choice."

"Yes," All Might said.

"When—" It wasn't the time to ask the question, wasn't the time to consider it when Deku was still out there waiting to be found, maybe wanting to be found. But Katsuki asked. "Is there, do you think when we find him, if there will ever be a time when Deku will stop?"

"Stop what?"

"Running," Katsuki said. He lowered his head, and All Might stroked his back.

"Maybe he won't," All Might told him, and the truth was plain, a streak of paint on the wall. All Might smiled wryly. His eyes crinkled this time, so Katsuki thought it was genuine. His hand stopped, a warm spot on Katsuki's back. "Maybe he won't stop running. We'll just have to keep finding him, that's all."

"Oh. I didn't think of it, like that."

"But I hope," All Might added, "that one day he'll feel he won't have to run, anymore. Or if he's running then it's not… away and that he'll run towards something, instead."

"Yeah."

"Where would he run?"

Katsuki chewed his lip. "But…"

"If he had a choice," All Might said. He cocked his head, like he knew something Katsuki didn't. "I have a feeling that his choice and Chimera's—if we are right in suspecting their involvement—are closer than we think."

Katsuki rolled the words in his mouth. "Safety," he said. "Familiarity. But— away from here."

"He wouldn't come back home."

"No," Katsuki said, "I don't think he would. Auntie's here. He wouldn't risk that… I think that was probably why he left. To keep her safe."

"Yes," All Might encouraged.

And the answer began to form, somewhere. Maybe Katsuki saw it drifting on a dust mote in the room, in the washed-out colors of Deku's All Might posters, or in the square of the window.

"Somewhere he knows." It was there. So, so close. "Somewhere… he felt he could hide. And if he wanted to be found, he could be."

"The place. It's…"

Like the answer on a test. A blank space, but in his mind Katsuki wrote the answer in pencil, characters smudging.

"...U.A."

They sat. Looked at each other. All Might didn't question him; he only stood, pulling his phone from his pocket in one fluid motion and lifting it to his ear as he walked to the hall. Katsuki sat for a moment longer. Finding the answer—he felt sure of it, more than he had before. It was an intuitive thing. But Katsuki traced Deku's path; he could _see_ him now, slipping quietly out the window, shadowy down the street, a figure almost swallowed by the enormity of U.A., the entrance like a set of jaws opening for him.

From down the hall, he heard All Might's voice, speaking. Katsuki felt emptied, drained, but he felt himself keep going. He left the room and went to the doorway, saw the adults standing together, talking. He heard Deku's name. He saw All Might gesturing.

And then he felt empty, and then he felt young.

He felt like a child.

Katsuki hated the feeling. He hated being treated like he was four, like when he'd fallen into the river and Deku had come after him, extended that hand. He hated being saved even if he needed it. He'd loathed Akatani for a moment on the rooftop, like he'd scrubbed himself with sandpaper, hands cracked and bleeding.

But at the end of the hallway Katsuki just felt it. And somewhere in the halls of U.A. Deku must have felt it, too.

It was knowing that you didn't know. A small stretch of road that seemed long while walking until you saw it winding further. You thought you were getting older, and the number was two-digits until you counted the rings of a tree stump and thought, _there is so much still._

Katsuki swung his head to the right and looked at the reflections in the glass of the picture frames. The distorted shapes cutting into the light, divided into little squares. A younger Deku stared back at him in black-in-white.

He stopped.

Katsuki strode into the kitchen, then said, "Did you replace the picture on the wall?"

Everyone stopped to look at him. Katsuki ignored them and looked at Auntie Inko.

"Did you replace the picture on the wall?"

She dabbed at her face. "What picture?"

"The one with him," Katsuki said, "did you replace it."

She blinked at him owlishly before her expression cleared. "No," Auntie Inko said, "I didn't. What's this about, dear?"

Katsuki had already turned his back on her, ignoring Mom shouting after him. He went back to the hallway and tore the picture frame from the wall, cracking the back and tossing it to the floor. He fished out the yellowing paper and looked at it, a torn scrap. The corner of a newspaper. The beginning of a story, torn off, but Katsuki saw the date at the bottom—from three years ago. The headline said _ALDERA_ , then cut off, and the edge of a picture peeked through.

"A newspaper." Katsuki turned it over, then back to the front. He didn't understand. Was this Deku's? Had he put it there? And what— what did it mean?

"I don't understand."

"Give me that." Mom snatched the torn paper from his hands and read it. She propped her hand on her waist and after a moment said, "That's the day of the fire."

"The fire?" Aizawa-sensei moved in. "What fire?"

Mom jerked her head in Katsuki's direction. The fire. Oh, he remembered now. The smoke pouring down the hallway. The stream of students, bodies pressed together, the sound of panicked footsteps as they were rushed outside.

"Katsuki's middle school. An accident from some idiot caught the school on fire. No one was injured, and everyone evacuated in time." She crossed her arms. "Don't know why he'd leave a newspaper clipping of this, though."

Katsuki shuffled to the side and lifted his gaze to All Might's. "You don't think?"

"I would hope not," All Might said gravely, but they seemed to both have come to the same conclusion. "I spoke to Nedzu. There seemed to be a problem reported with the school's power supply, but he sent someone to inspect the situation and it seemed to just be a glitch of some kind. But—"

"But if it's not a glitch…?"

"You're sure Midoriya is there?"

"No," Katsuki said, glancing in Aizawa-sensei's direction, "but it makes sense to me, I think. For him and for Chimera. And _that_ and that can't be a coincidence. No fucking way."

"We cannot rush in," Aizawa-sensei cut in. He looked at Katsuki. "And you are not going."

"You can't stop me," Katsuki retorted.

"I can—"

"I don't care if you think I'm a child," Katsuki said, and Aizawa-sensei backed off for a second long enough for Katsuki to continue. "I'll bring him back. You can do all the punching— well, at least let me do a little bit of the punching. But I'm going, and I'm going to bring him back. I couldn't do it the first time."

"Let him go," All Might said, before Aizawa-sensei could say more. Katsuki swiveled to look at him. "You can't stop him. Best to have him with us or else he'll go in without us knowing and watching out for him."

Katsuki crossed his arms.

"I'm going to talk to Tsukauchi and Nedzu," All Might said, "arrange for a force."

"I will not put my student in danger." Katsuki opened his mouth in protest, but Aizawa held up a hand. "You will do this on my conditions. You will not put yourself—and _I_ will not put you—in unnecessary danger. Whatever order I give you you will follow. If I tell you to leave in any situation, in _any_ situation, you will do so without question. No matter what is happening. No matter who is dying. Am I clear?"

Katsuki met Aizawa-sensei's eyes. "Yes, sensei."

"You better listen, you brat," Mom said. "And you'd better obey. You certainly don't to me."

"I listen," Katsuki told her, feeling calm, "I just don't follow. But I will for this."

"We do not rush in," Aizawa-sensei added. "We need to move fast, but we will not going in without being prepared. We'll need more people, more information, and something beyond conjecture that Midoriya and Chimera are at U.A. Am I clear on that?"

"Yes, sensei."

The corner of Aizawa-sensei's mouth quirked up. "Defend yourself if you have to. Use your Quirk if you have to. I authorize you to… do a little bit of the punching if you're in danger. Am I clear?"

Katsuki grinned, but it didn't make him happy. "Crystal."

"Katsuki," Auntie Inko said softly.

"I have to do this," Katsuki said. He took the newspaper clipping and gripped it tightly. "I promised him. I promised him."

And he stepped to the end of the hallway.

"When you bring him back you have to bring yourself back, too," Auntie Inko said, and he nodded at her.

"I will," Katsuki promised, and he meant it just as much as the first time he had said it.


	53. Chapter 53

**Flare Signal** _  
chapter fifty-three_

* * *

Izuku was waiting for her.

The air left her lungs in a single instant. Silver took him in. A distant, soft light lit his features—an inky mop of hair, the bridge of his nose, the barest glimpse of his eyes. Just seeing him was enough to make a dizzying relief sweep through her entire body, but Silver forced her unsteady legs forward.

"Izuku," she said.

She stumbled towards him. He didn't move when Silver reached him, only kept looking back at her as she cupped his face with a hand. She'd found him.

She'd found him.

"Izuku—" Her voice cracked. "Why are you…. Are you okay, do you- I- I mean, let's get you home, kid. Come on."

He didn't respond. Silver wasn't sure he was even listening.

Fear like cold water trickled down the back of her neck. Silver ran a thumb along his cheek. His _eyes_ … he was looking at her, but they were vacant. You didn't know how much life a person had until it had been drained from them.

"Izuku," she whispered. "What have you done?"

"Oh, it wasn't his fault. He was just following orders… weren't you, Izuku?"

Izuku tensed under Silver's touch. He turned minutely, and Silver followed, tail coiled tight. She _knew_ that voice.

Miss Guidance smiled and opened her arms wide. Silver shifted so she could stand between her and Izuku. Miss Guidance wasn't touching him. Silver wouldn't let her come close.

"Silver, darling. I missed you."

 _I missed you._

"Don't lie to me," Silver spat. Her tail stirred, cracking against the floor. "You never held any love. Not for me, not for Chimera, not for Izuku. You don't even know what it feels like to— _miss_ someone."

"I missed you," Miss Guidance called from the far end of the room. "Believe me. I raised you."

She'd found safety and shelter from the rain under the shadow of Miss Guidance's wing. Miss Guidance had taught her many things—how to fight, how to be silver-tongued, quick and silent and deadly.

Quietly, Silver said, "That means nothing to me."

Sometimes you took a wrong turn. Sometimes you didn't realize you were on a road until you were already halfway down it. Sometimes you forgot to look in the mirror, and the next time you saw your reflection it was like seeing a stranger with blood on your face.

Being a villain wasn't an accident, but it had never been a choice, either. Like the rest of her life, it was one of those things that had just _been_. Like dipping her fingers in blood had just been. Like loving Izuku had just… been.

Not an accident. Not a choice.

"What did you do to Izuku?"

Miss Guidance smiled again.

"Like I said," she told Silver, coming closer until Silver could really, really see her. "Izuku's just following orders."

Miss Guidance reared her head like a snake about to strike. She lifted a hand and turned a gold coin between her fingers. _Heads or tails_ , Silver could almost hear her saying. The hairs on the back of her neck rose. It always seemed to land on one side.

"You, on the other hand…" Miss Guidance started. She wet her lips. Silver tracked the distance between them, calculating when she could move, how to strike. How to take Miss Guidance down. How much venom she needed to use—to paralyze, or to kill. "I don't think you've been following orders for a while now, have you?"

Silver cocked her head coolly, but her stomach twisted. Miss Guidance knew.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she tried, but the shake in her voice gave her away. Miss Guidance preyed on the weakness like a shark in the water.

"You turned over some information that I didn't ask you to. You'll have to be punished for that, Silver, dear. A scorpion no longer."

"I still have venom," Silver growled, flicking her tail.

"Come back to us," Miss Guidance offered, "I'll forgive you, dear. Izuku's here. We need you."

Miss Guidance's eyes flashed gold. Silver felt the pull of her Quirk, and within herself felt a want stirring. A desire to obey.

"Silver," Miss Guidance spoke, "your concern is so sweet. But you don't _want_ to hurt us. Chimera's blood is in your veins—you _will_ join us."

Silver wanted to.

Her will dissolved. She'd been wrong. All she had to do was stay. All she had to do was stay. She didn't—

There was a breath at her back. Izuku. He was here with her. He was— he was—

Izuku.

Accident, choice. Heads, tails.

"No," Silver said, and the word was freeing. She'd never said it like this before. She wrested herself from the depths of Miss Guidance's influence. "Let Izuku go. Let him walk away, or else you're not going to. I'll stay. Just let him go."

"Fine," Miss Guidance snapped.

The agreement was so sudden it made Silver go still. She inched forward carefully, then back, unsure of if Miss Guidance really meant it. But Miss Guidance had built her crown out of lies. Her voice was sweet and dripping with poison.

Izuku… Miss Guidance had done something to him that she'd never done to Silver. Silver didn't think she could ever make Izuku want to do something, her power of persuasion weaker over him— no, this was stronger, lasting. Different. Silver needed to get him away.

"Fine?"

Miss Guidance's lip curled in a mocking smile.

"I'm sorry, Silver. I have bigger plans for Izuku." She turned, and Silver tensed. "Izuku."

Silver crouched, ready to attack, but it was instinct alone that saved her from the knife at her back. She twisted, feeling blade cut fabric, and everything fell away.

"She won't be leaving, now," Miss Guidance said, "don't let her."

The first time Silver had seen Izuku use his Quirk—the new one—she had watched it dance across his skin. Light that was emerald green and crystalline. Light that seemed to come from him, that seemed to permeate his very being, as if for the first time everyone could see what Silver saw inside of him.

This hurt more than any wound did. The emptiness in his eyes.

"Izu—"

The knife swung again. Green glinted off of it, and that was all she could see of the arc. Silver threw herself to the side.

"Izuku?"

He was on her faster than she could react. Blood roared in her ears. She brought her arms up to block a flurry of unending blows, but her defense was useless.

And Silver didn't want to fight him. Not like this.

"Izu," she breathed. He forced her back. And back. " _Izu_ —"

Pain rocketed up her ribs. The rest of his name faded into a strangled gasp. His Quirk disappeared and then it was just them fighting in the darkness, Silver desperately reaching. Izuku slipped in and out.

A footstep behind her. She turned.

The ground met her in a dizzying rush. Her head cracked against the floor. Silver coughed, trying to pull herself up, and a boot slammed into her side. She laid there, wheezing. Wetness pulled at her eyes.

Weak. Weak, and weaker still.

She grabbed his leg, wrenching downward. Izuku slammed to the ground, and Silver scrambled up even as he activated his Quirk again. He caught her fist, but not the tip of the tail cutting through fabric and skin.

The room spun. Fire splintered in Silver's chest as she gasped, bracing her hands on the ground. She was on the floor again, and the coldness of the ground against her cheek made her eyes open wider. Izuku. Izuku needed… he needed her.

She pushed herself to her knees. He hadn't attacked again; it'd worked. Just enough venom to keep him down long enough for her to talk to him.

Silver staggered forward. She couldn't breathe right. Still she took the few steps to Izuku's side and knelt; he was gasping, limp and still on the floor, a sheen to his face but—

"Izuku," she whispered. The effects would wear off in minutes. "Please, Izuku. Li- listen to me."

She crawled over him and cradled his head. Her hair fell around them like a shimmering curtain. He wasn't looking at her. He couldn't see her.

"You can fight it," she told him, "fight her, kid, you're so strong, you're so, so strong, I can't do this without you. I _can't_ do this without you. Please."

A breath wheezed past his lips.

She was holding him… she was holding him the way she had, before. The last time she had seen him.

Silver had felt his breathing, slow and gasping. The flutter of his lashes, the distance in his eyes. He'd tried. He'd tried so, so hard. She'd felt the blood warm on her hands, for the first time blood that was both her doing and not. His weakening heart.

 _I'm scared._

"I know you're scared," she whispered, and something sparked in Izuku's gaze then faded away as quickly as it had come. Her heart shuddered. "I- I'm scared, too. It's okay, Izuku. We're going to be just fine."

She couldn't do it a second time. She couldn't do this again.

Something cold closed around her neck. By the time Silver realized it was real the fingers were tightening and her vision was slipping away. She clawed uselessly at Izuku's hands then stopped. Her heart pounded under his grip.

She didn't cry. But Silver felt something wet drip down her face, over his fingers.

" _Izuku_ ," she wheezed. She touched his wrist weakly. "I— _ah_ , I… love you."

He didn't stop.

The feeling of the floor disappeared. Pain tunneled her vision. She wanted to see his face. She wanted— she wanted to tell him—

Air. She wanted air.

Darkness threatened to steal Silver's sight. Something strained past her lips; she recognized it, a few notes of a lullaby. The last strands of sweet sound, a comfort she had given to Izuku.

Air rushed back into her lungs. Silver gasped, body jerking involuntarily. Fingers touched her palm, then slid into her grip, and Silver blinked up at Izuku. Reached for him.

"Izuku…"

He touched her face where she had been crying. Green light crackled around him, the back of his head lit like a halo. He was trembling.

"Izuku," she said again, pushing herself up, stronger. He was hurting more than she was.

"...I heard your voice," he murmured. She put her arms around him and rocked him a little. The pain eased.

They got to their feet. Izuku swayed, and Silver gripped his hand tightly. She had no intentions of letting go.

"No!"

Silver pulled Izuku to her, putting out an arm to protect him. Miss Guidance's eyes turned to molten gold.

"You are the lock," she began, but Izuku lifted his hands to his ears and let out out a wordless yell.

" _No_ ," he snarled, and the light around him grew blinding. "I'm not."

A flicker of movement out of the corner of Silver's eye. She lunged to the side as Bonestealer's cane cracked against the ground. Izuku's fingers left hers; she turned back to him, but Bonestealer blocked her.

Silver gritted her teeth. She felt something warm trickle from her nose and wiped blood away.

"Clever girl," Bonestealer said, grinning, "but let's see if this silver scorpion still has her sting."

They came in sharp and fast. Silver leapt back, but her left ankle crumpled under her. Bonestealer snapped their cane down, hooking it around her foot, but Silver lashed her tail around it and pulled hard. She scrambled up, snatching the cane and holding it out threateningly.

Distantly, Izuku cried out. A pained sound.

"Izuku!"

Silver faltered. She struck past Bonestealer, but they blocked her. Izuku was yelling now, shouting words she couldn't make out past the barrage of sound in her own head, and rage made her blood boil.

"Out of my way," she threatening, baring her teeth. Bonestealer tilted their head, eyes cool, but she was on them in an instant. Silver rammed the cane into their arm, snapping her leg out and catching their knee. A hand wrapped around her wrist, and numbness from their Quirk slid up her arm until it was dead weight.

She spun out of Bonestealer's grip, and the cane clattered to the floor. Bonestealer lunged for it. She brought her knee up and sent them reeling back.

A few things happened at once. Silver noticed the empty room; Miss Guidance was brushing herself off, blood on her sleeve, but Izuku was gone. Light poured into the room. A set of figures broke through the door, and Silver recognized them.

Heroes.

"Never been happier to see you," she muttered.

Miss Guidance's eyes snapped to Silver.

"Silver," she said, command in her voice. Silver gritted her teeth, bracing herself to resist. _Izuku._ She had to do it for—

"Hey, you fucker," someone yelled. "You wanna know something I learned from All Might?"

Bakugou appeared, looking like he was here to raise hell. Izuku's stories about him certainly told her he would. He lunged at Miss Guidance.

"Eat _this_!" he shouted. Light spiraled down his arms to a set of glowing fists that blew Miss Guidance back.

Bonestealer tackled her, and the two of them went down hard. They hit her—once, twice, her head snapping back. A red haze settled over her eyes, but suddenly she saw cloth wrap around Bonestealer's arm. Their weight disappeared.

"Eraserhead," she greeted flatly.

"I hope I'm not late," he said, pulling Bonestealer towards him. Silver took the chance, striding forwards and clocking her former boss in the face.

"That was for Izuku," she said, and Eraserhead held Bonestealer in place as she hit them again. "And that was for me."

Izuku.

She scanned the room. He was gone.

Satisfied Eraserhead had it under control—as Present Mic appeared in the doorway as backup, and more people streamed in, Silver raced to the opposite end of the room.

"Izuku!"

She blew through the set of doors, ignoring the aching protest in her body. Her ribs hurt like hell. Moving made everything worse.

"Izuku!"

There, down the corridor. Smoke. Thin and wispy at first, soon it grew thicker. Silver lifted her shirt and covered her nose and mouth, striking out towards the source.

"I'm going to kill you," she hissed, drawing closer and closer. "I swear it, Dragon. If you touch Izuku—"

She burst into a room, then the next. Silver's instincts screamed at her to turn back, but she kept going. The acrid smoke slipped past the thin fabric of her shirt, and stung her eyes. She lifted an arm and wiped away.

"I—" Silver broke into a coughing fit, stumbling over her own feet. God, she was so tired. "Izuku!"

Another door, and then—

Izuku was still. He had his back to the door, staring into the rising fire. He didn't turn when Silver burst in, panting.

He seemed rooted to the floor. Silver stumbled forward, reaching for him.

"Izuku," she said, heart in her throat. She needed to get him out of here. She needed to take him away from the things that were hurting him.

Hisashi was nowhere to be seen. It didn't matter. He could go for all she cared; Silver only had eyes for the boy in front of her.

The heat was almost unbearable. Silver walked towards it anyway, aching. Everywhere, everywhere, where she had been hurt, where she had hurt herself, where something dark had settled in her heart.

"Izuku," she said again.

Finally he turned to look at her. He looked empty and tired.

"Let's go," Silver said, "let's go, Izuku, let's leave it all behind."

He didn't move. She reached him finally, but he didn't react when she put her arms around him and held him tight. Silver could hear him breathing, short, shuddering breaths next to her chest. But he didn't hug her back, arms limp and still at his side, and he didn't speak.

"Let's go," Silver said, taking a step back. He didn't follow. Instead Izuku looked at the fire and then back at her. Glimmering orange sparks flew around them, gold and red, ruby flames dancing. It was almost as beautiful as it was ugly.

"I feel like I'm— burning," Izuku said, voice quiet and hollow. Silver's heart cracked. But he'd spoken. But he was here. But there was light in his eyes, real, even though it was dim.

"I know," she said.

This time, he let her take his hand.

"I know, Izuku," she whispered into his ear and felt the wash of fire over her and the stinging heat.

Then she led him, step by step, out of the flames.

Through the hollow halls of U.A. Door after door. Room after room. Fire cracked, burning around them, but Silver held on tightly this time. She pulled Izuku with her as the fire exploded behind them, and soon they were outrunning the fire.

" _Izuku_!" came from the distance.

Izuku stopped. They both turned in the direction of the voice, and Silver saw a quiet question in his eyes. She didn't care if the world was burning; she held his face and told him what he needed desperately to hear.

"They came for you."

"They…," Izuku said, not understanding. "They came for… me?"

"Every one of us," Silver promised. "Izuku. We're here for you."

Eraserhead appeared at the end of the hall and spotted them. His eyes widened.

"Here," Silver croaked, coughing.

"This way," Eraserhead directed. She latched onto his calm demeanor, the cool relief of a helpful presence. He led them out of the school. U.A. was surrounded as they broke out into the night.

"There! Over there!" someone shouted. The rest of it was a blur. Heroes talking. Flashes of faces. Izuku flinched, and Silver noticed, drawing him closer and shielding him. She saw Bakugou on the sidelines, and when their eyes met Silver nodded, trying to convey it was okay. Something in her expression must have convinced him.

Izuku tugged on her sleeve, and she wrapped her arms around him. He was still shaking, and Silver pressed a desperate kiss to his forehead.

He said something as they both turned to watch the school burn. Silver missed it, and leaned down so he could speak into her ear.

"Lights out," he whispered, voice rough and sad, and Silver pressed her cheek to his.

"Lights out," she said. They stood back from the fire and for the first time since it had started, they had finally made it out of the flames.


	54. Chapter 54

**Flare Signal** _  
chapter fifty-four_

* * *

His head hurt.

It hurt in that terrible, pounding way after a string of long nights and no sleep. It hurt in that aching way when he'd cried too much. It rang hollow like Izuku had just been emptied.

Green light flashed in the corner of a vision like from a stoplight. Sluggishly Izuku pushed away the fog in his mind as things began to return to him. Slow, the sound of a familiar voice, the feeling of heat under his fingers, a beating heart, a set of glimmering eyes staring back at him—

Izuku recoiled, and the hands that had been tightening around Silver's throat drew back. She fell, gasping, and Izuku stared at his fingers. They looked like his father's.

And he'd done— something.

Silver coughed, and Izuku stopped thinking. He sank to his knees next to her; he touched her hand, hesitantly, and then she looked at him. Relief in her clear eyes.

He almost drew away.

Relief, and not anger, or pain. Izuku didn't remember… he saw his hands again and realized suddenly that he had hurt her. Blood roared in his ears, but Silver was reaching for him.

"Izuku."

She'd cried. Izuku saw the wetness there in the corner of her swollen eyes. She'd cried for _him_. Before he knew it he'd lifted a hand to her face, and Silver said his name again, voice strong this time.

"Izuku."

Her voice.

And Izuku remembered in the blank expanse of his memory, a spark in the darkness—he'd heard the notes of a lullaby someone had sung to him.

"...I heard your voice," he whispered.

Everything hurt. Nothing made sense. But it occurred to him then that Silver was here, with them, and as she put her arms around him he knew it meant that she would protect him. Even after—

It was like waking up from a long sleep. He'd seen flashes, but they were all jumbled in his head with too many pieces that didn't make sense. One for All had seeped into his dreams and surrounded him, and Izuku had touched it and felt it, and woken up.

Silver pulled Izuku to his feet, and he swayed dizzily. They were… he recognized the space. U.A. And Miss Guidance was there, and the memory of her gold eyes hit him like an unexpected blow to the chest.

"No!"

Anger.

The clarity of the feeling cut through the mess. She'd done this to him. Suddenly Izuku found himself wielding a blade sharper than any he had held before, one that was not meant to cut through sinew and bone but instead the depths of her influence.

"You," she said, and Izuku watched her red mouth form the words, "are the lock—"

One for All burst furiously around him. He lifted his hands so he wouldn't have to hear her, but the crackling of his own power and the rush of blood in his ears drove out any other sound.

" _No,_ " he said, and One for All sang. "I'm not."

A flash. Izuku felt his fingers leave Silver's as an expanse of fluttering cloth cut through them. Silver leapt back. Bonestealer.

He made to help but saw Miss Guidance again, and the rage exploded. Izuku charged.

It was only when he drew close that things went wrong. Her eyes flashed gold, lips parting to command him, but just the sight alone sent Izuku reeling dizzily back. A memory passed through him, sharp and fleeting; blood—

Miss Guidance threw him back. Izuku landed, a pained noise escaping him as he rolled.

Something cold met his fingers as he inched backwards.

Izuku moved. He drove the dagger forward, aiming for the heart.

Miss Guidance wasn't fast enough as she dodged to the side, and she snarled as the blade bit into her shoulder. She threw Izuku back, roaring with uncharacteristic anger, and then bore down on him. She slammed him into the ground again before Izuku could react.

Miss Guidance snapped a steel-toed foot into his side, and Izuku's vision went fuzzy as something gave way. When it cleared, pain burning, Miss Guidance was standing over him, panting. He thought he heard Silver's voice, distant.

Izuku struggled to his feet, drawing two more knives and glaring.

"So this is how it is, Izuku?" she snarled. Gold gauntlets glinted as she pushed up her sleeves. She'd given up, he thought, on controlling him—or whatever she had done—and had now only the intent to kill.

"I may not be a hero," Izuku said lowly, limping forward, "but I refuse to die a villain."

"You're mine," Miss Guidance said. Izuku rushed forward, but she danced out of reach from his every blow. He tried again—harder, faster, the blood pumping in his veins, but he couldn't hit her. Something cracked in him. Wild and desperate.

One for All surrounded him like a shield, seeping into the cracks in his armor. Though Miss Guidance stayed on the defense she kept trying to speak to him, but every time those eyes flashed gold he felt the strength of his Quirk pushing through.

"You can't have me," Izuku shouted, bringing his knife down. "I'm not _your_ anything."

Miss Guidance yelled in anger, twisting out of the way and slamming a fist into his side. Pain sent him tumbling to the ground; he lifted a hand and realized she had hit him where All for One had wounded him.

"You'd like to know what happens when you don't follow my orders, wouldn't you?"

"Miss Guidance," a voice snapped, and they both stilled. Izuku's gaze shot over her shoulder to the third and final head of Chimera, baring his fangs at the last moment. Fire licked between him and Miss Guidance. His blood ran cold as Hisashi met his eyes. "Leave my son to me."

Miss Guidance stepped back. She flipped a coin, and Izuku watched it fall.

"Gladly." A flash of white teeth.

Izuku balled his hands into fists. He hadn't seen Hisashi since the last time before he'd left for good, and now the kettle boiled over. This— Izuku could end this. He could.

Hisashi left. Izuku followed.

They raced through the halls of U.A., Hisashi staying one step ahead, Izuku only catching glimpses of the back of his head or the fluttering of his shirt.

Finally Izuku tore into a near-empty room and saw sparks drifting like dying stars in the darkness. A small flicker, on the floor. The fire caught.

"Izuku," Hisashi said. He seemed to emerge from the shadows, the same way Izuku did, the same way Izuku had learned. That he had been cut from the same cloth and the edges burned. His hands shook.

"Hisashi," Izuku replied, trying to keep his voice even. Disappointment flashed across Hisashi's face, but Izuku didn't understand why.

"You're still like me," Hisashi said, yearning, and Izuku's stomach turned. "You look so much like I did… it's in you. It's in your blood. I was so afraid you'd been taken from me—"

"Taken from you?" The words were out of his mouth before Izuku had even formed them. "Like you took me?"

"No one saw your potential," Hisashi said. "Your strength. You were needed elsewhere."

Izuku laughed. His ribs hurt, and his side.

"And you never thought about what I needed," he said, "or what I wanted, or how I felt. And you never thought—"

Hisashi pressed his hand to Izuku's cheek. Warm from the heat, calloused. His eyes glittered like opal. He was touching Izuku, but Izuku had compared it once and found something lacking.

"You're my son," Hisashi whispered.

 _You're my son_ , Mom said.

Izuku trembled. He shut his eyes and pulled himself away, stepping back in a small motion that left the barest gap between them. He could still feel Hisashi's hand, hovering, the ghost of his touch still on Izuku's skin.

But the distance was there. Izuku had created it.

He blinked. Hisashi looked at his fingers, at Izuku, like he didn't believe what had happened.

"I'm not your son," Izuku rasped. "I'm not."

He blinked again and felt himself cry. The heat pressed in as One for All rose to life around him. Soft whispering at the edge of his mind—but not static, just almost-familiar voices.

Hisashi's lip curled. Izuku saw that dragon's glint in his eye, and then it disappeared. He looked at Izuku, fire hissing from his mouth, but this time it was like Hisashi was actually seeing him.

"No," Izuku said.

The word had power. Izuku sensed it; he'd spoken it into existence. He was not Mirage. He had shed that skin, slipped out of an oversized jacket that had swallowed his shoulders. He was not Akatani Mikumi. He had parsed through his own illusions.

Fire crawled between them, but it wasn't real. Hisashi watched, eyes widening as Izuku made his own fire divide them. Then the fire that had been burning in the corner of the room, the real one, spread, and Izuku stepped back. Sweat clung to his skin as smoke made his vision hazy. Izuku breathed and coughed.

His father looked at the rift between them and said, "I'm sorry."

Izuku shook his head. "Your apology isn't worth anything. Not to me, not anymore."

"You're… good." The words were barely loud enough, but Izuku heard them. Like Hisashi had never known what the word meant.

"I have a choice," Izuku told him, as Hisashi's shoulders slumped and a realization seemed to sweep over him. "I have a _choice_. I'm going to be— better."

In his mouth he tasted blood. His father's, his mother's. He carried the legacy of a lifetime, of One for All buried deep within him. Yet the anger burned. Hisashi was wrong. Izuku had carved his own path, had clawed his way from the ravine.

"Leave," Izuku choked out. "If you loved me at all—if you never loved me for a second… I never want to see you again. Leave."

Hisashi's hand lifted. Then it fell. Their eyes met through the haze.

The last thing Izuku saw of his father was this: the turn of his back, something Izuku knew so well. A glance over his shoulder, a glimmer of remorse that meant nothing. The firelight in his hair, the gleam of leather scales. The smoke surrounding him as he finally walked away.

It would be the last time Izuku saw Hisashi for a long time yet. Perhaps he would never see Hisashi again.

Izuku rubbed his wet eyes. The heat had dried his face, turning it sticky. Now it was just Izuku, alone. His mistakes, his undoings—

"Izuku!"

He stared into the fire as it swept closer. Now Hisashi was gone his feelings came to swallow him whole. He could… oh, he could let the fire take him, let the ashes…

"Izuku."

Gold. Miss Guidance, the color of her eyes, Hisashi, his fire. He heard her voice this time.

And there, brilliantly, Silver.

"Let's go," Silver said, "let's go, Izuku, let's leave it all behind."

He didn't move. She reached him, but Izuku couldn't feel it when she put her arms around him and held him tight. Seeing her made everything drain from his body. He gasped against her shirt.

"Let's go," Silver said, taking a step back. He couldn't. Instead Izuku looked at the fire and then back at her.

"I feel like I'm— burning," Izuku said, and he felt so empty.

"I know," she said.

This time, he let her take his hand.

"I know, Izuku," she whispered. He believed her. She knew. She might have been the only person who really did know. And so Silver led him away from the fire.

Through the hollow halls of U.A. Door after door. Room after room. Fire cracked, burning around them, but Silver held on tightly this time. The fire roared behind him, and Izuku was stumbling over his own feet as she pulled him.

" _Izuku_!" came from the distance.

Izuku stopped. He turned in the direction of the voice, distant as it was, because he knew that voice too. Silver gripped his face; desperation shone in her eyes.

"They came for you."

He heard it, but didn't understand what she meant.

"They… they came for… _me_?"

"Every one of us," Silver promised. "Izuku. We're here for you."

Eraserhead appeared at the end of the hall and spotted them. His eyes widened.

"Here," Silver croaked, coughing.

"This way," Eraserhead directed. Izuku coughed. Eraserhead. From the very beginning to the very end. It sparked a sort of strength in him, and Izuku kept moving until they had broken free of U.A.

"There! Over there!" someone shouted.

It was overwhelming. They were surrounded in seconds. Izuku saw too many faces, too many unknown variables, and flinched away from their touch, their sight. Silver touched his wrist and put her body between him and the rest of the world.

U.A. had caught flame. Fire licked across the building, consuming it even as firefighters raced forward to tame it.

Unextinguished.

Izuku saw another night in his memory and caught Silver's sleeve. Without looking she put her arms around him, and there was a little warmth in her hold. He took it, still watching when she pressed a kiss to his forehead.

"Lights out," he said, so quietly he wasn't sure the words had even passed through his lips, but Silver leaned down to listen.

"Lights out," Izuku said again, and she leaned her cheek against his.

"Lights out."

And the heat closed in. And the fire died, bit by bit. And in careful steps Izuku thought he was returning to himself.

The sort of dark, coiling thing in his chest settled. Izuku's body passed. Izuku put his head down, and Silver kept him close, guarding with a fierceness. He watched her tail flick across the ground, and the retreating feet of anyone who was too close for comfort.

He looked up and saw bruises forming on Silver's neck—splotchy and ugly—and remembered waking up, and seeing, and seeing—

"I did that," Izuku said faintly, and Silver tossed her head back and looked at him when she heard him.

"That wasn't you."

"I did that," Izuku said again, "even if it wasn't…"

"She made you do it."

He shook his head hollowly. "I stopped her when…" Izuku paused. "I couldn't do it before, Silver. I wasn't— I'm sorry."

She moved her hand to his shoulder. Blood shone on her mouth.

"You can't hurt me more than she has," Silver said, tapping her throat, "but it if helps I'd forgive you for it every time. This will heal. The rest takes longer to."

He lapsed into silence, not knowing what to say. Even now when it was over, Izuku kept looking over his shoulder. U.A. went dark. Chimera was fragmented now; Izuku flinched at the sight of Miss Guidance and Bonestealer being carted away by the police. The other was fleeing somewhere in the night. The last of them were here, walking in smoking clothes.

Izuku surrendered himself to being taken care of. When they tried to separate him and Silver, she told them she wasn't going anywhere without him. Something snapped into place in his head, and he opened his mouth and found _no_. He didn't want to see the reminder of the colossal mistakes he'd made, but he wasn't ready to be left alone yet either. They'd spent a lot of time apart, the two of them.

They were treated and cared for. Someone gave Izuku a fresh set of clothes that he put on numbly. His ribs were wrapped, his old wound checked, injuries treated. But it was Silver who sat cross-legged on the hospital bed next to him, a bandage on her arm, and gently wiped his face clean of soot and dried blood.

He winced as she tilted his face, and turned his gaze away. There was nowhere to hide. Izuku's head pounded, like someone was scraping at the insides. Maybe someone had.

"Do you want to know something, Izuku?"

Damp cloth dragged down his jaw. Silver used her fingers to take his face and lift it towards her, forcing him to meet her eyes. They were the same color as Miss Guidance's, but Silver's had always been kinder.

He swallowed. "Yeah?"

"There was something I never got to tell you." She drew the cloth back. "The reason they kept us apart. Do you… know why?"

Izuku shook his head minutely, feeling more than a little stupid and tired. Silver pressed tight, though it didn't hurt. A smile lifted the corner of her mouth.

"They were scared of us," she told him, and Izuku's heart stopped, "and they were scared of what we could do. Because they knew we were stronger together."

His throat was dry. His head hurt.

"Please don't forget," Silver said, and Izuku saw a sheen to her eyes. He held his arms out and she tucked herself into them, shuddering once against his shoulder. The blanket half-tucked over them fell. " _Please_ , Izuku."

When Silver cried, it was different. It hurt more because he had never heard her do so before, and because it was loud, and messy, in a way that those who were used to hiding did not.

"It'll heal," Izuku told her, shaping the words into existence. "It'll heal."

She looked at him and her eyes shone, but even when she was crying Silver could smile. Izuku found the strength to smile back.


	55. Chapter 55

**Flare Signal  
** _chapter fifty-five_

* * *

There was a woman sitting at Izuku's bedside.

At first he didn't recognize her. Then their gazes met, and something clicked. He squinted up at her.

"Auntie…?"

Auntie Mitsuki's mouth twitched. She looked like she didn't know if she wanted to scowl or smile—the same kind of expression Kacchan had, a lot. Instead she shoved a glass of water in Izuku's face as he sat up, remembering he was home, and not in a hospital bed for once. Late afternoon, or maybe evening by the look of the low light. He'd slept all day.

"Back from the dead, squirt," she said dryly, and Izuku coughed out water. "Mm. That's what it felt like to me, anyway."

Auntie Mitsuki really did scowl then, and Izuku sank back against his pillow. He opened his mouth to apologize, but she fixed him with a look and he snapped his mouth shut. No apologies, then. Not to her.

"It's good to see you again," Izuku said softly. He set the glass down on the table and smoothed out a corner of his blanket. "I…"

"Missed me? Good," Auntie Mitsuki said, voice curt. She reached over and tweaked his ear, hard enough for it to hurt a bit, and nodded firmly. "So, _next_ time you get it in your head to—"

"That was the last time," Izuku snapped. He heard the venom in his own voice, and wilted immediately.

But Auntie Mitsuki smiled.

"That's what I thought." She reached over and ruffled his hair a little, and the tension eased. Oftentimes Auntie Mitsuki had been too loud for him, yet there was always such a depth to the simple, crass way she sometimes spoke. Something in her voice that made you listen, a little comfort in the rough-cut approach she took to everything.

"Thanks, auntie," Izuku whispered.

It really _was_ good to see her again. She was just familiar enough that it was comforting, and there was an easiness to be here, with her. Distant enough that Izuku felt like he could talk to her.

He shifted up in bed.

"Where's…" he paused, "where's Mom?"

Auntie Mitsuki shrugged. "Masaru went with her to go talk to that detective guy."

Izuku's heart leapt a little. "I thought she already did. Earlier this week."

"That was about your shitshow." Yeah, Auntie Mitsuki had always been a real comforter. "This one's about Hisashi."

He shoved back the blankets, heart hammering. "Then shouldn't I- shouldn't I be there? If it's about Hisashi— did they, did they find m- him?"

Auntie Mitsuki was already shaking her head. She crossed her arms and huffed loudly.

"If they had I wouldn't be here."

"Oh."

"I'd be beating his face in," Auntie Mitsuki added. A little unnecessary, but— well, coming from her, it was a nice sentiment. He was almost ashamed to think that he'd like to see it happen, and buried the thought away. Instead Izuku turned his attention somewhere else.

"What about, um, Kacchan?"

Auntie Mitsuki's brow creased. She looked at him strangely for a moment, lips parting, and then nodded.

"I haven't heard anyone use that in a long time, squirt," she told him. "He's getting groceries. I told him he'd better get some napa cabbage or else—it's on sale this week and Masaru wanted some."

Izuku blinked. "That… sounds good."

Groceries. It was such a simple, ordinary thing. And suddenly he pictured himself in the kitchen with Mom—he was tall enough now, Izuku realized, to work at the counter without needing a stool—cooking together. The smell of cabbage cooking, and soft conversation. He blinked, screwing up his face so he didn't cry. What a small thing to cry over. That he wasn't going back anywhere but here.

"Don't get your hopes up," Auntie Mitsuki said, "I'm not here for much longer."

"Is Kacchan…"

Auntie Mitsuki shrugged. Izuku glanced away, sullen.

"Oh, spit it out."

"I wasn't going to say anything," Izuku muttered. "It's just— well, I haven't seen him. In a while. Actually I haven't seen him period and, I mean, I know he's fine, Mom mentioned him, but I… he didn't come see me."

"He's just being a little shit," Auntie Mitsuki said.

That didn't really make Izuku feel any better. Kacchan had read all of Izuku's texts, too, but he hadn't responded. Izuku felt a bit pathetic; he couldn't tell if Kacchan was just busy or upset. Or maybe after Izuku had run off again Kacchan had decided that Izuku wasn't worth his time anymore. That he'd changed too much in five years into someone else.

"Don't be a dumbass," Auntie Mitsuki said, and Izuku realized he'd said it all out loud. "He wouldn't have raised hell to get to you otherwise."

"Still," Izuku mumbled. "I don't want to bother him, but it'd be nice to see him."

What Izuku remembered of the Chimera attack was scant, though. He remembered being drawn into the school, remembered static, and then it was all fuzzy until he was stumbling through the halls again. A flash of Hisashi's face. A well of words between them.

There were a couple glimpses of Kacchan in there, but Izuku remembered Silver the most. Her voice sinking through the fog, her eyes, her hand in the darkness.

"Enjoy the quiet while you can." Auntie Mitsuki sniffed. "He'll barrel back into your life in no time."

Auntie Mitsuki reached over and ruffled his hair.

"It's— good to have you back," she told him, mouth twisting wryly. "Knew you were a fighter."

"I survived," Izuku pointed out, "don't know how much of that was fighting."

Auntie Mitsuki gave him that strange look again. "One day you'll see what the rest of us do. When you're taller, anyway. You haven't grown an inch, squirt."

He pouted at her. "I _have_."

She looked over his head, around the room. "Hah? Where's that voice coming from?"

"Auntie," Izuku whined, and she laughed. After a moment, though, she got up.

"You're leaving?" He was seized with a desperate need to not be alone in the moment; it faded after a second.

"Your mom's back," Auntie Mitsuki said, "ah—and she wanted to talk to you."

The feeling switched from not wanting to be alone to Izuku wanting to stay holed in his room in the quiet. Sure, he and Mom had talked plenty in the past week, but they hadn't _talked_ -talked. They hadn't talked about the Chimera attack any more than a few quiet, tear-stained conversations: Mom, holding his hand, saying _please I could have lost you_ and Izuku holding her hand back, _I'm sorry._

But he hadn't given her any more than that he was sorry.

Izuku didn't know if he had anything else to give. It was all a jumbled mess in his head. Mostly he slept, and recovered, and asked himself questions about the way his head hurt and the little gaps he was starting to find in his own memory. And every morning he woke up with dream fragments about glittering tongues of fire and gold, the wicked curve of Miss Guidance's mouth, the distant look in Hisashi's eye.

"Next time I'm going to hunt you down," Auntie Mitsuki interrupted.

Izuku blinked at her, then said resolutely, "I told you that was the last time."

Auntie Mitsuki smiled. It was a Kacchan smile, sharp and brilliant. She didn't say anything more before leaving, but Izuku liked to think it meant she was proud of him, or happy.

Mom came home a little afterwards. He was a bit ashamed when she came to find him; Izuku curled, pulling the blanket up and feigning sleep.

He'd talk about it. Eventually.

Izuku eventually dozed off. He only realized a soft sound registered and Izuku shot awake, twisting in self-defense and scrabbling under his pillow for a knife that wasn't there. It was just Mom, though, her foot on the creaky floorboard, and Izuku sank back.

"Do you want to eat? I made dinner."

"Already?"

He blinked, then looked around. It was late now, and he rubbed the stickiness from his eyes and nodded.

Dinner was simple and homey. They talked lightly as they ate, the sound of chopsticks clinking against the bowls. Rice and fish, and cabbage—Kacchan had stopped by.

Izuku frowned, pausing.

"He'll be back tomorrow," Mom said, and Izuku thought she meant for it to be reassuring. "We're making dumplings, so I invited the Bakugous over, of course."

"I don't know if I remember how," Izuku said. He set down his chopsticks and held out his hands, trying to remember the motions. Fold and pinch. Mom smiled.

"As long as they stay closed and we can eat them," she said. Kacchan would certainly make it into a competition on who could make dumplings faster and nicer than the other. Izuku had a vague, fond memory of that one.

They were interrupted by a quiet knock on the door. At first Izuku thought he'd imagined it, but Mom sent a quizzical look towards the doorway. She'd heard it too.

"It's kind of late, isn't it?" Izuku asked after a second.

The knock came again, and Mom stood before Izuku could.

"I'll get it—"

"Mom," he started, worried, but she'd already left the table and was striding in quick steps across the way. She looked through the peephole, then opened the door a crack.

"Hello," Mom said. Izuku craned his neck, but Mom and the door was blocking their visitor. "Can I… help you?"

"Um," came a voice, "this is a bit awkward— I know you don't know me—"

But Izuku gasped, vaulting from his seat and stumbling towards the door. Mom saw him come and stepped back, flustered, and Izuku grabbed the door and swung, outwards, and—

He hadn't seen her in a week. She'd stayed briefly before disappearing, skittish by the attention. And before that he hadn't seen her since Kamino. She was good, like him, at making herself scarce when the situation called for it.

And the situation always called for it.

She tucked a piece of hair back, and _oh_ , she'd chopped it short until now it curled behind her ears messily. The silver ends she'd dyed were gone.

"Your hair."

"You like it?"

"It looks good," Izuku said quietly, then added, stunned, "Hello, Silver."

The line of her mouth curved up into a knowing smile. "Hello, Izuku."

He suddenly remembered Mom, standing there, and turned awkwardly, gesturing. "This is— Silver," he finished. "She's my… I told you. About her."

"I'm sorry," Silver added, "I really hate to come here like this, but I didn't have anywhere to go."

Mom looked at Izuku, then at Silver, and gestured for them all to step in so she could close the door. The cool air vanished, but it did not feel suffocating inside, either.

"Mom—" Izuku started. He was worried now, what she would think of Silver. He had always hoped of course, that he could introduce them, but now the two most important women in his life were standing feet from each other. One was a mother and the other had blood in the crevices of her hands.

"You're the Silver Scorpion," Mom said slowly. She held up a hand to stop Izuku, and he faltered back.

"Silver," was the reply. "That's all I'd like to be, now. I'm not the Silver Scorpion anymore."

He hadn't called her that in a long time, nor heard the name. But he remembered it as he watched her tail flick across the floor, nervous.

"Silver," Mom repeated. She looked at Silver long and hard for a moment. "You took care of my son?"

Silver bit her lip. "I… did what I could."

Mom tugged on Silver's arm—Silver's tail went still—and then she wrapped her arms around Silver in a gentle hug. Silver hesitated, confused, but lifted her hands to rest lightly on Mom's back.

Silver shot Izuku a confused, almost panicked look. This clearly wasn't something she was used to, which made him sad. And Izuku only shrugged back at her. Mom was like that. Open and loving.

"Thank you for doing what I couldn't," Mom said, pulling back.

Silver bobbed her head, and Izuku took her hand. She relaxed, and then he did. Safety. Her tail curled around his ankle.

And Silver said, "It's what we deserve."

Mom put her hand over top of Silver's other one, and said, "You're welcome here, dear. If you ever need it."

Silver sighed, looking around. He knew how to read her—wistful and longing. He saw something in her eyes. Had she ever had a place to call home? And this, here… maybe eventually she could learn to.

They fed her, despite Silver's protests, but as Silver wilted slightly in the extra kitchen chair Izuku knew she had needed something like this. Mom asked her questions, polite, about smaller things like if Silver liked movies, or what her favorite meal was. The word villain wasn't mentioned once.

There wasn't really a guest room for her, but Silver took the couch after a lot of arguing. It was almost funny in retrospect—all three of them tended to be a little stubborn, and kept butting heads over who would sleep in the rooms, and offering to sleep outside. Izuku let Silver have it, though; he realized he might have been uncomfortable, too, taking someone else's bed, already under their hospitality. And more privately, he knew, she had more open space—a little dangerous, but she was closer to the door.

After everyone had retired, though, Izuku heard a light tapping of footsteps. Silver—he could tell, by her near-silent gait—stopped outside his door, then opened it gently. It creaked. She caught his eye and winced, smiling.

"Hey," she whispered, and Izuku sat up. She tilted her head. "Do you mind?"

He didn't understand what she was asking until she tossed a pillow from the couch on the floor, followed by a blanket. Izuku nodded, shifting in his bed, but she shook her head. He watched her settle in at the foot of the bed before rolling over to look up at him.

"Hi," Izuku whispered, reaching down. She took his hand and held on, closing her eyes, and Izuku curled at the edge. He didn't dare let go, even as her breathing evened and slowed. Her face relaxed. When had he seen her last, looking like that?

He tried to sleep himself, but it didn't work. Izuku cursed in the buzzing silence. It was probably because he'd napped all afternoon. All this fighting bad guys nonsense was messing with his sleep schedule; he'd need to get it back on track before school started. Izuku hadn't heard much about that, though he knew things had been postponed due to the attack as the heroes and school worked to reassure students and families, not to mention the hungry media. He wasn't worried, though. They would figure it out.

Izuku kicked irritably at his blanket. He wanted to toss and turn, feeling restless, but Silver was still holding on. Time ticked by. He threw his other arm over his eyes, but the pressing blackness didn't help. And thinking of U.A. made him nauseous.

Finally Izuku caved. He got up carefully, unlocking his fingers from Silver's with a quiet apology she didn't hear. Silver breathed lightly instead, and Izuku crouched down run a thumb along her wrist for a moment before quietly making his way out.

He had to be careful. They were trained alike, light sleepers, but they also carried themselves lightly. So Izuku made it from his room without waking her, and walked towards the kitchen.

Just a glass of water. Mom had been caring for him, a gesture Izuku appreciated, but— Izuku could get a glass of water. A simple task.

He'd just turned off the faucet, lifting the glass, when Mom said, "Izuku, where are you going?"

He dropped the glass, and it banged hollowly in the sink as the sound of trickling water followed. Izuku turned.

"I wasn't… going anywhere," he told her. "Just water."

She relaxed a fraction. There was a crease between her brows.

"Why are you up?"

"I couldn't sleep," Izuku admitted. Mom padded forward a few steps. She flicked on the light, and Izuku blinked rapidly at the sudden shift. He was used to the darkness.

"Neither could I," Mom said, regarding him. "Did you dream?"

He shook his head. He hadn't come close enough to sleep for that.

"I did," Mom said, voice soft. There was a candidness to her that hadn't appeared in a while—briefly, he thought, it must be because now there was no morning light, no sun shielding them from their own thoughts. "I dreamt you were gone from me again."

"I'm here," Izuku reminded her. But a sort of dread was creeping up his throat. He forced it down, then remembered he wanted water and spun almost dizzily to scoop the glass out of the sink and refill it. He chugged it down, but it didn't wash away the feeling.

"You left."

She was at the counter now, close enough to see the expression flitting across her face. It wasn't— it wasn't an accusation as much as it was a fact, but it was still something that hurt. Izuku flinched.

"I left."

He didn't want to talk about it. He wanted to run away, he wanted to curl up under his blankets, he wanted to be holding Silver's hand. And he didn't want to be back there.

"Why did you _leave_?"

She hadn't asked him that once. But now the question was here, and Izuku found he didn't have an answer. He'd been asked, several times, by several people, but… not Mom. He'd been too scared to admit it. Maybe it was Miss Guidance, tugging at his mind. Maybe it had been the threat. Maybe he had thought of a middle school burning. Maybe because Izuku hadn't run in so long he'd felt it again, aching like a loss. Maybe he'd wanted to see them again. Chimera. Blood to blood to blood.

Tears were glittering in Mom's eyes. He could see her breathing shift and felt disconnected from it, could imagine her heart beating as quickly as his.

"Are you—" Izuku swallowed roughly. "Are you… mad?"

She had to be. Hisashi would have been, though they were not the same person, and when Hisashi was mad Izuku would see smoke. Mom blew out a long breath though there were no sparks in her throat.

"I'm…" She took in another breath, spun around to stare at the wall, then turned back to face him. "I don't… I'm upset that you ra- ran away. This time. And I'm angry… but I'm not- I- I'm angry that you couldn't… you didn't…"

Mom breathed hard. She pushed her hands up her face, then tugged her hair out of the way.

"I'm angry because I was _helpless._ How do I know this won't happen again? How many times do I have to lose you before it happens for good?" She began to cry, and Izuku stumbled back a step. "A-and you always wanted… so badly to be a hero, and I know it makes you happy but I- I- sometimes I wish you didn't want to because it was like once I had you the entire world was trying to take you away."

The room was quiet save for Mom's shuddering, uneven breathing. Izuku felt like his chest was constricting.

And now Izuku realized he had something else to offer her that was not an apology.

"I want to come back," Izuku said finally. He wasn't shaking. "The path I was put on, the path I chose, the ones I'll keep following… it's going to be dangerous. I'm not going to run away. I- I don't want to. But when I left there was still… I kept fighting to come back. To you."

Through the fog. The sound of a lullaby filling the emptiness. One that Silver had hummed but before that Mom had sung to him, once.

In Chimera's snare, he had always reached through the netting to be a hero. But there was something else, something more… love, and family.

He knelt, carefully, in front of Mom, and she wiped roughly at her face. Kacchan had been—a star, a signal, a cry. But Mom was the sun, radiant and powerful, and he had walked in her direction, turning his face up to catch the light, to see. But now Izuku bowed.

"I want to be a hero more than anything." _Be honest. Be truthful. No more secrets. No more lying._ And a choice— "But I would… I would give it up fo- for you."

And as he said it he knew. Watching, waiting, standing on the sidelines… that was something Izuku had learned to do. Something he _could_ learn to do.

"That's not what I want," Mom said firmly. "I know what I said, but… You always wanted.. wanted to be a hero, and I cannot— I cannot deny you that."

She knelt too. They were on the same level.

"But what I need is you to- to trust me more. And to talk to me. Because I was angry… because I was angry because you couldn't. And that you needed to run away, instead of coming to me. Even if you want to come back."

He didn't… know how. Even with Chimera, even telling her he had left out so many pieces, so much of the bitterness he did not want her to taste. But she was— he should have been able to.

"I know it must be hard," Mom said, holding his hands. "I can't promise I won't be upset or angry, or support you being in danger. And I know in the end you can't promise you won't leave. But it would help me… it would help us if we would open our hearts more— to each other. I will accept it, if we can do that."

She was telling him what she wanted. Hisashi had never done that. And Mom was guiding him gently, to take the steps forward that he needed to, to trust, to communicate. Hisashi had never done that.

It sounded so simple.

"Okay," Izuku whispered.

"Okay?"

"Okay," Izuku agreed. And he envisioned a future like that and was surprised that he could see it at all.

And so in the late hours of the night they talked. Not tinged with panic, not weighted heavily, but— talking. It felt strange to have someone listening, to have someone hear his voice. And he heard himself, too.

The next morning, Silver found them like that. Talking quietly. She paused in the doorway, and Izuku looked up and smiled. When she saw him do it she smiled back.

"Good night?" she asked. Now she was unapologetic about her stay as she swept through the kitchen, taking a mug from the dishwasher and heading for the coffee machine.

"Something like that. Sleep well?"

"Something like that," Silver said, leaning back against the counter. She seemed to pick up on the atmosphere but deigned not to comment, instead giving Izuku a proud look.

"Breakfast?" Mom asked, and swept into action. She didn't say anything either.

Mid-morning, the door unlocked itself. Everyone tensed.

"Looks like a party in here," Kacchan said, letting himself in. "Auntie Inko, you didn't invite me."

"You invited yourself," Silver pointed out, draped over her chair. "What's up, knuckles?"

Izuku opened his mouth to speak. Kacchan glanced at him briefly and then turned away quickly. Izuku snapped his mouth shut. So much for— well, communication.

"Delivery," Kacchan droned, recovering first. He went to the fridge and slotted something in that Izuku couldn't see. "I forgot to send it over yesterday."

"Breakfast," Mom interrupted, before he could leave, and Kacchan sighed heavily. He knew not to fight though, and was ushered into the seat across from Izuku. Kacchan avoided his gaze. Their knees bumped under the table.

"Kacchan—" he whispered.

Kacchan just aggressively shovelled porridge in his mouth. So he really didn't want to talk.

Silver's tail tapped against his ankle soothingly, but the air was charged now with an awkward feeling, suffocating. Kacchan was mad, then. At him. Izuku's stomach sank, but he was glad he hadn't had too much for breakfast.

Kacchan finished and got up, bowl in hand. Izuku slumped slightly.

"You're ignoring me," he said quietly, so Mom wouldn't hear.

"I'm mad at you," Kacchan snapped.

"Um— can I talk to you?" Silver asked, looking at Kacchan and tilting her head towards the hallway. Izuku sank back.

"Me," Kacchan said flatly, but he set the bowl down hard then crossed his arms and followed her.

Izuku heard them walk a little but not far, and he scooted closer to the hallway. Mom sent him a look but made no comment.

"—a few seconds," Silver was saying. Her voice was tighter than it had been when she'd spoken to Izuku, a little more stern. "Look. Kid. Ease up, will you?"

"What are you telling me to ease up for—"

"I'm telling you to back off," Silver snapped, a little more venom in her voice. "I'm not saying you shouldn't be mad or whatever. Okay? I'm mad. But God, I'm tired of being mad, and it doesn't do anything, and you're just going to make things worse. Okay?"

"You expect me to just— let it go?"

"I'm not expecting you to… ugh, do you listen?" The sound of an impact, though Izuku couldn't tell what. "Don't let your anger get in the way. And maybe be a little more forgiving. Izuku and I—you grew up together but so did we. He went to face his father the Dragon and told him no. He went to face my— he went to face Miss Guidance and broke out of her hold and told her no. He needed that. And he needs to know that you _are_ going to forgive him, and that you have."

"I can't!"

And that was loud. Izuku scooted back and covered his face with his hands.

"We all thought he was done running and then he did it again and you expect me to just— that was so _stupid_ and one of these days we're really going to have to—"

 _Bury him._

Izuku had heard enough of it.

"If I look at him right now I'm going to do something I'll regret, so I can't…"

And how it must have felt for Kacchan, to see the window he had always climbed through— Izuku had used it to leave.

He pulled away, taking the bowls at the table to the sink to wash. Mom put a hand on his shoulder, and he leaned into her.

"Kacchan's mad, too," he whispered. She pushed back his hair.

"He just needs some time to work through it before he can talk to you," she murmured, "though I hadn't realized…"

"But I—"

"He'll come to you," Mom said, pressing a kiss to his temple. "But you scared him."

 _I wanted to protect you,_ Izuku had told her the night before. He had never thought about being scared—him, or the people he had left behind. But they'd talked about that, too.

Silver and Kacchan walked back out, a little ruffled, and he could tell they were both tense. But Silver seemed at least satisfied enough that she'd gotten through her message. Whatever she'd meant to say. And Kacchan a little more thoughtful.

"Thanks for breakfast, auntie," Kacchan said gruffly. He stuck his hands in his pockets, scowling. "Gotta go."

Izuku followed him to the door, the entryway half-secluded.

"Kacchan, wait," Izuku said, hazarding forward. Kacchan stopped on the doorstep. A painful, electric moment passed between them, and then Kacchan slipped through the door.

"Just— a little longer," Kacchan replied. He didn't look back, but it was the first time he'd really spoken to Izuku. He flexed his fingers, and Izuku could tell he was struggling to say something. "But I want. Fucking shit. I'll— hell. I'm not going anywhere, I'm still. Fuck you, Deku."

Izuku almost laughed. But— he understood.

"Okay," he murmured, and saw the back of Kacchan's head dip. "I'll… see you."

"Yeah," Kacchan said, and that was going to have to be enough for now.

The rest of the morning was less eventful. Mom had some errands to run, but they were short and she was back sooner than Izuku realized. Silver perused their CD collection, snorting at the number of All Might movies they had on their shelves.

Before their next visitor could knock though, Izuku had already opened the door this time.

"What the hell," Silver groaned from the couch. "How many people are showing up?"

"You were one of them," Izuku grumbled. "Hi, Detective."

"Oh!" Mom hurried out, overhearing the greeting. "Is there- did you still- need me?"

Detective Tsukauchi smiled and scratched his neck. "No, but thank you. I'm here to pick up Midoriya here, though." He gestured to Izuku, and Izuku winced.

Everyone looked at him.

"Oh," Tsukauchi said. "You didn't mention…?"

He stared at the floor. "I didn't say anything because I thought you'd stop me," he said, to Mom and to Silver. "Not because I didn't- trust you. Or anything."

"About what?" Mom asked. She frowned. "Izuku…"

"I wanted to see Miss Guidance," Izuku said. "I'm going."

"To see—"

Silver leapt over the couch, reaching. "Izuku…"

"You would _let_ —" Mom started, her eyes on Tsukauchi.

"I need to see her," Izuku interrupted. "I'm sorry I didn't say anything. I should have. But there's just… I want to know…"

He'd asked when Tsukauchi had come to debrief him during his stay at the hospital. There'd been some arguing, but eventually Tsukauchi agreed. Izuku didn't know why. But he needed to see her again now that his head had been opened up and closed again, and some dark, empty spots had appeared in the corners.

"I'll go with you, then."

"No," Izuku said. "No… I need to do it alone."

He looked at Silver, begging her to understand. She met his gaze and then finally nodded.

"Okay."

"Okay?" Mom asked. "You- you would be okay with my son— with the villain who…"

"It will be as safe as possible," Tsukauchi reassured, "we've put in proper safety precautions. They won't really be in the same room. There's surveillance cameras running, a guard, and I'll be supervising the visit. If anything happens, we'll be able to react immediately to any threat."

"Mom, I have to," Izuku said slowly. "I just have to see her. I know."

It was a last thing to put to rest. Mom's protests died.

"Call me when you get there and when you leave," she said, "and afterwards we're going to talk…"

He went to her and hugged her. "Yeah," Izuku promised. "I will."

Later they buzzed him in, and then Izuku was on the other side of a cold door. Tsukauchi hovered a hand over Izuku's shoulder.

What he hadn't told Mom and Silver was that he was— scared. But if he'd said that they would have come, and he didn't want them to see. Izuku and Miss Guidance. He'd decided that.

"Are you sure?"

Izuku nodded firmly, not daring to speak. If he said yes Tsukauchi would have caught the lie. Tsukauchi paused another moment, then nodded at the guard stationed here.

"Alright, then. Five minutes. I'll be watching from the other side."

"Yeah," Izuku managed, swallowing. "Right. Okay."

He approached. The glass was smooth. On the other side Miss Guidance sat calmly even here, locked up. Izuku took a careful seat across from her, and she blinked at him, smile lazy like a cat. The gold in her eyes was diminished now, but still present; a chill ran up his spine even as he reminded himself it must be an aftereffect of the Quirk suppressants.

"Izuku," Miss Guidance said. Her gaze flicked up and down, and he felt it sear across his skin.

"Hello, Miss Guidance."

"Did you get what you wanted?" Miss Guidance cocked her head. "When they talk about you they never say 'villain.' You're a... hero-in-training, now, wasn't it? Does that make you happy?"

He gritted his teeth. Anger roiled in him. "I'm on this side of the glass. And you're on the other side."

Miss Guidance tipped her head back and laughed. This— even this seemed calculated and cold.

"Shouldn't we both be in here?" she asked, gesturing at the containment room. "You know you deserve it."

She could get under his skin— she knew what to say—

Izuku gritted his teeth.

"How did you know about One for All?"

"Questions," Miss Guidance said lightly. "You're sure you want them answered."

"How did you know about One for All?"

Miss Guidance tutted. She looked at her nails. Izuku bunched his hands into fists— he wanted that look off her face, that triumph, he wanted to break the glass between them and see how she liked it. And under that anger was fear that maybe the Quirk suppressants weren't enough, and maybe he was still a puppet on strings, and.

"How did you think I wouldn't?"

"Stop—"

"You were always meant to be the lock," Miss Guidance sighed. She leaned back. "A tragedy, isn't it? You could have been so much more… All for One saw that in you, but he didn't know how to wield it. And _I_ , the key…"

"What do you- what do you mean?"

"Make a guess."

Miss Guidance smiled. She was toying with him, but there was nothing Izuku could do. Still, on the other side, and she was still pulling the strings. He forced himself to calm down.

"Why did you work with All for One?"

"You should know how powerful he was," she said. "He was useful to me."

"Was I useful to you?"

Miss Guidance smiled at that one. He heaved in air. "Very."

"You made a deal," he accused.

"A simple answer," Miss Guidance said, "but I suppose. We're a little alike, you and I. More than you think."

 _Guess. Guess. Guess._

A deal— for what?

"He wanted me."

"Not you specifically," Miss Guidance drawled, "though he did find you had potential. Then you showed yourself to be quite powerful as if you'd— acquired something. A Quirk, perhaps. The only one he really wanted."

Izuku's heart pounded. Blood was roaring in his ears.

"And when did he give you yours?"

Miss Guidance's eyes pierced through him. The gold spread, but stopped. She clasped her hands together. Izuku could hear it now, phantom static, but it couldn't be real— he was just— imagining it. His heart crept in his throat.

"Does that scare you, that we're alike? That we were both given—"

"We're nothing alike!" He stood, shouting, and cut through the static in his head, the screaming. "I'm going to make myself… I'm not like you, I'm not. I'm not."

"You have always been," Miss Guidance continued, calm. "You have always been ambitious… and we clawed our way up, and took the scraps given to us."

"I'm not a villain."

"Maybe not."

"And you— controlled me. With what he gave you. You made me… everything I did lies on _you_."

He didn't need to see her anymore. He turned, signalling to the guard, ready, but Miss Guidance called him back. Izuku hated that he obeyed.

"I hardly did anything," Miss Guidance told him, and there was some truth there, "so be careful in fooling yourself, Izuku. You were still yourself. Try as you might, you know… you'll never really be a hero."

He stood carefully, breathing.

"I used to tell myself that," he said finally. Hisashi curled in his shadow, clawing at his ankles.

"It's in your _blood._ See, Izuku," and her voice, faint, as if from a dream or a memory, "even if I was in your head… how much of it was me? And how much of it was _you_?"

And breathing, still breathing. One for All hummed.

"It doesn't matter." He turned to face her one last time. "I'm going to be a hero. I chose to be a hero, and I'm going to keep fighting to be one no matter if villainry runs in my blood or if I ever wanted to be a villain. There is nothing you can do to stop me."

Miss Guidance's eyes met his.

"You will always come back to _this_ ," she said quietly. He thought about home.

"No, I won't," Izuku told her. "Goodbye, Miss Guidance. You have no hold over me anymore."


	56. Chapter 56

**Flare Signal** _  
chapter fifty-six_

* * *

Izuku was hunting a hero.

He'd first caught a glimpse of movement just out the window, so brief it could have been imagined. But Izuku trusted his judgement; he looked closer and soon caught the twisting of black fabric in the wind.

He set down his pencil and switched off the desk lamp, shutting the room into darkness. Then he went to the window, eased it open silently, and let himself out.

Movement above. Izuku smiled to himself. He hooked a hand on a nearby pipe, testing his weight, and then pulled himself up to the roof.

Eraserhead turned, eyes flashing red—

—and then he realized who had come chasing him and relaxed. His hair floated down gently to his shoulders again.

"Mi… Midoriya."

Had he almost said _Mirage_? Like a name from another time. Izuku couldn't tell.

"Nedzu wants to talk to you." Eraserhead cut to the thought without any warning, and Izuku reeled in surprise at the sudden conversation.

"Principal Nedzu?"

"There's only one Nedzu," Eraserhead noted. He didn't smile, but Izuku laughed a little. "With everything that's happened, we've been working hard to keep the general public and—more importantly—the students and their families reassured that we are doing everything we can. To ensure your safety, to address security…"

"Oh," Izuku mumbled, "well, naturally."

"As a faculty, we've been discussing the dormitory system."

"Oh."

"We've been making progress," Eraserhead told him. "Construction is not so much of a challenge as persuasion, but… for Class 1-A, at least, most of the students and their families have agreed to return for the upcoming semester, and to live in the dorms."

"Are you trying to convince me?" And then, "Most?"

"Mineta withdrew," Eraserhead admitted. He sighed. "That's none of your concern, though, Midoriya. I've been talking to your mother—alongside Toshinori, and Nedzu has passed on his own messages… she agreed she would allow you to stay in the dorms."

"But—"

Izuku's head spun.

He wanted to say it wasn't safe. He wanted to say that they couldn't make him live in the dorms.

"But what about Mom?"

Eraserhead paused. "We've acknowledged the potential danger with… the Dragon still around. There's still some— discussion happening, with her safety as a priority of course, but typically we would have assisted her into joining a villain protection program. Her participation is entirely voluntary, though." He eyed Izuku carefully, but Izuku bit his lip wordlessly. "But there are… other circumstances to take into consideration."

"What… what does that mean?"

"You," Eraserhead said. "Your mother did express safety concerns, but she was adamant that you would not be separated from each other. So we're looking into other options. Maybe even a space at U.A."

Izuku's heart leapt. He tried not to get his hopes up, but—

"We could stay together."

Eraserhead held up a hand, but he seemed to sense what Izuku was feeling. "It's… a possibility. Yes."

"That's good," Izuku said weakly. "That's— that's very good."

Eraserhead nodded.

Then Izuku cleared his throat painfully, and said, "Thank you."

Eraserhead considered him for a moment, so Izuku kept going. "I think I apologized enough for— everything," even though he felt he really hadn't, "but I still needed to say thank you."

He'd said it before, but… every time, it felt like a different meaning. For Mom. For helping him, for bringing him home, for trusting him. Everything.

"When you left," Eraserhead started, "did you find what you were looking for?"

"What I was looking for…"

"Every time I ran away when I was younger—or when I left—I was looking for something. Did you find what you were looking for?"

Izuku thought about it. No one had asked him that yet. He thought about cold fire dancing between him and his father. The way he had crafted it, the word _no_ in his mouth, that he had said, _I'm going to be better._ And just a few days ago, seeing Miss Guidance.

 _They came for you._ Another piece clicked into place.

"I think so."

Eraserhead nodded. He didn't really say anything else, but Izuku didn't really need him to.

"You saved my life," Izuku said. "You did, and Toshinori… and you came for me."

"Something All Might said." Eraserhead tugged at his capture weapon. "We were talking, before… he said no one must have come for you for a very long time."

And the years that he had spent longing…

"No," Izuku said quietly. "I don't think so."

Eraserhead nodded firmly, like he was making up his mind. "We'll come for you."

Izuku pulled his knees up and hugged them. Pressed his chin between his knees and dropped his head, and tried not to cry. A moment later, the sound of shuffling and a careful, light touch—a hand draping itself on Izuku's head. Eraserhead pulled him in, and Izuku put his head to his teacher's side, and let himself be held.

The next day Silver knocked on Izuku's bedroom door. Dressed in a familiar jacket but a clean set of clothes, she looked less like a villain and more like the person Izuku knew.

"You're coming with me," she said.

"Hostage situation," Izuku said, following her out the door.

"Shut up, kid." She ruffled his hair, and Izuku batted at her hand.

They wandered through the neighborhood. Silver took his hand, and Izuku locked their fingers together. He pointed out all the old places he remembered. The playground. The streets. His favorite spots.

Then Silver took him down an unfamiliar path, drawing further and further away. She kept holding his hand, but reached into her pocket and took out a few coins.

"Where…"

Silver's tail knocked against him. "Don't you remember?"

When the vending machine came into sight, Izuku knew. Silver got them drinks, and passed him a can of soda. It cracked open, fizzling, and Izuku tipped his head back and drank.

"Let's walk," Silver said.

They went to an old spot—a crumbling wall by the road, and Silver pulled herself up first before Izuku climbed up after. Kicking his legs in the open air, in the calm, quiet streets, Izuku felt like he was reopening a piece of himself.

"You've changed," he commented, glancing at her short hair. Silver touched it, but she knew he wasn't talking about the cut.

"You changed me," Silver said. She flicked at the rim of her can distractedly. "I thought that was it for me. I was just… going to be a villain, and that was it. And it wasn't."

"I told you so," Izuku mumbled. "I don't think either of us were meant to be villains."

She glanced sidelong at him. "I guess you were right."

He tackled her from the side. Silver caught them, hands bracing, but it wasn't a fight—just a hug.

"You got me out," Izuku said, voice muffled against her neck. She tensed.

"I'm glad for it, kid," Silver replied finally, going limp. She reached around him, pressed her chin to his head. A soothing hand stroked his back. "You with your heart of gold."

A thought. _Silver, then gold._ He wasn't sure if that was what she had meant.

"Yours is silver, then," Izuku said, and she pulled back and laughed.

"You got me."

"Yeah," he said fondly, and she put her head on his shoulder. They watched a bit of the day pass together. "I do."

When they were done, Silver crumpled up the cans and tossed them. He stole her jacket before they parted ways, but Izuku was happy to see her go. He knew—for once, for sure—he'd see her again.

U.A. was… exactly as it had been.

He shuffled nervously through the doors. In daylight it looked so different, though Izuku had seen it a hundred times before. All the burned portions seemed to already have been repaired.

Izuku peeked through the halls on the way to the principal's office. He didn't know if he liked or not—that the remains of Chimera had been swept out, the ashes gathered.

A part of him wanted to see something. A scorch mark. The scuffed floor. Like a scar… a permanent reminder of what Izuku had survived and come out of.

"Come on," Eraserhead called, ahead of him, and Izuku realized he'd been drifting. He hurried to catch up, and fell into step, twisting his hands nervously. Principal Nedzu was waiting in his office, perched high in his chair with a tea set before him.

"Midoriya, Aizawa," he greeted, and Izuku bowed. His heart swept. "Aizawa, you're free to go. Do remember that meeting at four."

Eraserhead grunted. He bowed—if it could be called that—and dragged himself out, leaving Izuku alone with Principal Nedzu.

"You can sit if you like. Tea?"

Izuku wasn't bold enough to stay standing, though he refused the offer of tea. He thought if he drank anything he might throw it up. Eraserhead hadn't said anything about _why_ Principal Nedzu had wanted to see him. Just that he did.

"Are you nervous?"

Izuku's mouth went dry. He nodded once. Principal Nedzu only smiled in response.

"There's no need to be," he reassured Izuku, but Izuku still felt like at any second Principal Nedzu might decide to have him arrested or something like that. "I just have a few questions for you, some business, if you will. And then you'll be off again. I'm sure you've got many things to attend to."

"Um. Yeah."

"Will you answer me truthfully, Midoriya?" Principal Nedzu's beady eyes seemed to pierce right through Izuku. A deadly intelligence pinned him in place.

"Yes," Izuku murmured.

Nedzu clapped his hands. Paws. Whatever.

"You don't have to answer anything you aren't comfortable, but these are not recorded. At the beginning of the school year, when you applied—you were listed as Akatani Mikumi, with a superpower Quirk, is that correct?"

"Yes."

"Will you tell me your real name and Quirk, please?"

"Um— okay… My real name is Midoriya Izuku, and my Quirk is, um, I have an illusion Quirk."

"Fascinating," Principal Nedzu said, half-to-himself. "Yes, very good, thank you. Another question. Can you tell me the reason why you applied to U.A.?"

This time, Izuku averted his eyes. "There's multiple reasons. Sir."

"All of them, then."

"I…" Izuku took a deep breath. "I have always wanted to be a hero. And with All Might, um, mentoring me, I knew that he expected me to attend U.A. for hero studies. But I was also under, I was also under the- the- the, I'm sorry, I was under the instruction of the League of Villains and Chimera to infiltrate, um, U.A. As an informant for them."

Principal Nedzu nodded. "During the entrance exam, when you saved your fellow examinee Uraraka… what were you thinking?"

"Huh?" Izuku picked at his jeans. He shrugged, fidgeting in his seat. "Oh, well, um… I don't know. She was in danger, so I wanted to help her. That's all."

"And what do you think a hero is?"

Izuku sat back and thought about it.

"I think a hero is someone who helps others selflessly. An- and they try to see the good in others, and when they see wrongs they try to right them." Izuku closed his eyes. Faces flashed behind them. All Might, his debut. Toshinori, outlined by the sun and the sand. Eraserhead in the cool night. His teachers. The people he had helped bring down. And his classmates, all of them, and Kacchan. His heart shut, then unfurled.

"And someone who… comes back for you. And who- who makes you feel like you matter."

"That's a good answer," Principal Nedzu said solemnly. He smiled. "Thank you, Midoriya. That was all I needed to know."

"That's… it?"

Principal Nedzu looked bemused. "Were you expecting more, Midoriya? I'm sure I could think of a few questions. You're quite bright from my observations. It would be a pleasure."

"May- maybe next time," Izuku stammered. That sounded, well, intimidating. "But I mean, I thought…"

He faltered. Principal Nedzu's smile turned kind. "Yes?"

"Well, I thought you might, um, expel me or something. I mean, I kind of infiltrated U.A. for a bunch of villains. With all due respect, I think that's against school policy, sir."

"Perhaps." Principal Nedzu's eyes twinkled. "But do you know why I asked you all of those questions, Midoriya?"

"No."

"You were honest with me," Principal Nedzu began, "and when I asked you, you admitted to your own mistakes and the situation under which you had performed them. But I also asked you why you were here… why you continue to be here, beyond that, and I find the answers to be quite revealing as to your continued attendance of U.A. as a hero-in-training."

"That's… that's it?" Izuku asked again. "It- it wasn't, er, I mean, thank you so much for the- thank you so much, principal. I won't… I won't let you down."

"I don't think you could." Principal Nedzu cocked his head. "I have full faith in you, Midoriya. I think you could make a great hero."

"I'll try."

"I'll have you understand something. U.A. is dedicated to helping young students like you become heroes that will change the world for the better. You would not be here if us as a faculty did not think you are capable of it."

"Yes, I understand," Izuku whispered. His throat was dry now—but not for nervousness. "Thank you. Thank you."

Principal Nedzu glanced off to the side. "Ah, I think someone is here to see you."

"Someone…"

The door slammed open. Kacchan made his unhappiness very clear as he stomped in.

"Oi, Deku," Kacchan said. He ran a hand through his hair.

"Oh, so we're talking again," Izuku pointed out, more relieved than anything. Kacchan scowled, and Izuku privately thought if he did that anymore his mouth would be stuck that way permanently. He supposed everyone was used to it, though.

"Shut up, Deku," Kacchan muttered just loud enough to hear—there wasn't any heat behind it. He jerked his head towards the door before leaving first, and Izuku, as he always seemed to do, followed.

They walked—Kacchan stomped—to Ground Beta. A thousand thoughts crossed his mind. _Maybe we should have told someone_ , then _maybe it was better we didn't._

"Kacchan…"

Kacchan went further in. Then he turned around.

"You," he yelled, voice echoing, "You and me. Let's fight."

"...What?"

A draft slipped through. Izuku rubbed at his arms, realizing he'd left Silver's jacket back in the principal's office, and squinted tiredly.

Kacchan was mad now, teeth bared, but he was waiting for Izuku. And with a shock, Izuku saw his expression, and Kacchan. Kacchan, bracing to be hit, fists clenched, eyes dark and wanting.

 _Did you find what you were looking for?_

"Come on," Kacchan shouted. He gestured with his arms. "What? You gonna back down, _Deku_?"

" _No_ ," Izuku shot back, and it was sealed. Kacchan was looking for something. "I'll fight you, Kacchan."

That was all Kacchan needed to hear. He shot forward like a bullet, arm swinging in a clean arc. Izuku threw himself back by instinct, and Kacchan missed.

He dodged Kacchan's furious explosion. Heat pulsed towards Izuku's left side, and Izuku faltered. Kacchan closed in, a lone, hungry wolf.

Izuku got in a blow as he swooped under Kacchan's defense. His knuckles connected with flesh, pain stinging, but the hit hardly fazed his friend. Kacchan grabbed his arm, digging in painfully, wrenching Izuku forward.

"Ka—"

It hurt.

Izuku broke free, bile rising in his throat. Panic made him slip out of Kacchan's grasp. He sprinted forward, ducking to avoid another explosion that rang in his ears.

"Deku!" Kacchan shouted.

Izuku glanced back carefully, pressing a hand to his ribs. His shirt pulled taut; Izuku tore himself free again and spun, and Kacchan hit him in the face. He rocketed back.

A pain in his mouth. He'd bitten his tongue; blood, coppery and warm.

"Won't you face me?"

Kacchan rushed towards him. Izuku sank his heels back, grabbing Kacchan. Knee to the stomach— Kacchan threw both hands forward, free, light pouring from his palms. Izuku dropped, bringing his elbow forward sharply and sending Kacchan reeling back with a punch.

Then he turned on his heel and ran away. The distance between them widened as Izuku cut corner after corner, heart pounding.

In hindsight, agreeing to fight Kacchan wasn't the best idea Izuku had ever had. But it wasn't the worst, either; he'd made his fair share of bad decisions, so if they were scolded for it later it would be fine.

Izuku's side twinged. He gasped, feeling himself flinch, and twisted around a building. The sound of a distant explosion, rock against rock. He swallowed, heart beating.

At the very least, Izuku thought, Kacchan wasn't exactly one for stealth.

He put a hand to his side, breathing heavily. If he wanted to win he'd have to be careful—Kacchan might have been at full strength, but Izuku wasn't. He hadn't used his Quirk. He hadn't done any fighting. Only recently had he gotten back into the habit of morning exercise, but that had been careful and limited.

Not great in a fight.

Izuku panted, then dove out of sight. He circled around.

"Deku!"

In between a gap he spotted Kacchan. Hands out, fire on his fingertips.

" _Deku_!"

Take a deep breath. Take the advantage.

Izuku crept closer and closer, and suddenly wished he had a knife. His fingers felt empty. He flexed them, then in a moment of distraction let himself trip over a crack in the ground.

Izuku flung his arms out, catching himself as he hit the ground, but the sound of his stumble ricocheted.

Kacchan was on him in an instant. Fire burned in his eyes. Izuku's palms scraped painfully against concrete, but he hauled himself up as he drew on his strength.

One for All sang joyfully, snapping into place like a second skin. He'd missed it. Warmth pulsed in his chest and then spread outward.

"Kacchan—"

Kacchan shouted wordlessly. He blasted forward, right hand curling into a fist. Green light lit the ground around him as Izuku twisted cleanly out of the way.

The escape was short-lived. Kacchan spun effortlessly in mid-air and came back around for another hit.

He appeared in front of Izuku, grabbing the front of Izuku's shirt. Izuku struck upward, hard and fast. A fist sank in Izuku's stomach again, and he coughed, barely quick enough to catch Kacchan's other swing.

Kacchan shoved Izuku back. Izuku skidded, feeling the impact rattle in his bones.

"Do you realize how shitty I feel?" Kacchan yelled, pounding Izuku's shoulder. Izuku brought his arms up in defense and blocked a hit. Another. They matched each other, blow for blow— pain battered Izuku's arms, his defenses.

Kacchan wasn't finished.

"You know what I was thinking?" he demanded. Izuku couldn't speak. Kacchan feinted to the right, then sent an explosion near Izuku's face that sent him reeling back, blinded. "This whole _fucking_ time. I thought I was going to lose you and then it was going to be over. I thought during Kamino we were going to get out of there and it was going to be over. I thought after you woke up you were back and it was going to be over."

Kacchan's eyes glinted dangerously. His fist glanced off of Izuku's hand, but the next one clipped his arm.

Izuku caught a nearby railing, swinging himself up. One for All pulsed, and he pressed back then shot forward.

Not enough.

"It was supposed to be over!"

Kacchan slammed into him with the force of a fierce explosion. The edge of his vision went white as Izuku hit steel, sound ringing, and he dropped down, rolling. Kacchan grabbed his arm, hauling up, but it was only to hold Izuku still before he struck again.

"And," he bellowed, voice loud in Izuku's ears, "it—" Izuku leapt back from a kick at his ankles and landed wrong. "—wasn't!"

Izuku's knee gave out on the last word. He crumpled. He wasn't fast enough this time to catch himself and rolled painfully on his side, breathing hard.

Kacchan panted. He stared Izuku right in the eye.

"Every time I lost you I realized," he got out, "I realized it was because I wasn't- I wasn't- _strong_ enough. I hate it. I hate this."

Kacchan's mouth trembled. He gasped for air, and Izuku stayed on the ground looking up at him. A tear ran down Kacchan's face, and then he lifted a hand towards his eyes like he wanted to stop himself. An animal sound left Izuku's mouth.

"Kacchan," he said. His voice broke. "You—"

"How am I supposed to be a fucking hero if I can't even- if I can't- _fuck_!"

"Kacchan, you're stronger than anyone I know." He took a breath. Kacchan sniffled; Izuku wasn't used to seeing him cry. "You- you did… how are you not a hero? How are you _not a hero?_ "

Kacchan choked. But. He looked at Izuku.

"You saved me!" Izuku was screaming now. He crawled onto his knees. Then he pushed himself up, aching, but Kacchan put out a hand— Izuku took it, palm to palm— "No, it's my turn— you saved me—"

He shoved Kacchan blindly. "You _saved_ me." Izuku hit him again, just fists, and Kacchan took it in like desperation. "I thought of you. I fought for you. When I saw you— when I saw _you_ — at Kamino _I_ —"

Izuku laughed, shaking his head. "You were like the- the sun, like a star, you… I kept going because you were there. How- how are you, h- how are you not a hero, Kacchan? You're _mine_."

"Do I look weak to you, Deku?"

Izuku smiled. "Didn't I tell you _never_?"

"Yeah." Kacchan wiped a hand over his face roughly. "I'm going to be the best— fucking hero you've ever.. seen. Got it?"

"I know," Izuku whispered. "I can see it."

"I did it for you, too," Kacchan said. His gaze went distant in memory.

Izuku backed up a step, breathing hard. He put a hand to his chest and felt the rise and fall there. Kacchan watched him, saw the distance between them, and then stepped forward—

Kacchan caught Izuku's wrist. Their eyes met.

"Stop running, Deku." Izuku froze. Kacchan's fingers tightened, and he swallowed. "Stop running from me."

"Okay," Izuku said, and surprised himself with how easily he agreed. Kacchan held. "Okay, Kacchan."

Kacchan didn't let go. He stared at Izuku, long and hard, as his breathing evened and his heartbeat settled. When he found what he was looking for, Izuku saw it pass in his eyes. Then he tugged Izuku closer, and Izuku opened his arms and stepped forward.

"You're my oldest friend," Kacchan said in his ear. Izuku felt him blink. "Deku."

Always more to say. Always more to do. But Izuku closed his eyes and felt their hearts beat in sync, and thought, _it's going to be alright now._

Toshinori was waiting for them outside. He smiled when he saw them—he went to Kacchan first, put a hand on his shoulder. Then, gently, when Kacchan didn't protest, Toshinori wrapped his bony arms around him in a hug.

"You're so much stronger than you know," he said, and Izuku wondered how much he had heard, how much he knew. He shook Kacchan's shoulder a little bit, and then leaned in and said more words quieter. It was at a volume that Izuku couldn't hear, but Kacchan stepped back, pushing away.

"Young Bakugou," Toshinori said, his voice soft but insistent in that way that meant he wanted you to listen. Kacchan flinched. He opened his arms a little, to where Kacchan could see them, and inched closer. He said something again, and this time Izuku caught the words _hero_ and _what you deserve._ He didn't know what Toshinori said.

But maybe it was something Kacchan needed to hear.

"Alright?" Toshinori said.

"Yeah," Kacchan muttered, but the tips of his ears were red. Both Izuku and Toshinori pretended not to see him swipe at his eyes. "Thanks. Whatever, All Might."

Toshinori looked at Izuku next.

"I want you to see something," Toshinori said. He was dressed comfortably today, in a white shirt and jeans, but what struck Izuku was that he looked like he had settled a bit. Like he was comfortable in his own skin in a way he hadn't been.

Kacchan coughed. Toshinori glanced at him. "You as well, young Bakugou."

They trailed after him, banged up from their fight. Bruised and hurt, Izuku nursed his face where he remembered Kacchan hit him as they walked together.

They went to the side of the building, then out. Izuku wondered where they were going. Outside, there was a distant, steady rumbling. He peered around, confused.

"This way," Toshinori gestured.

They walked a little further, and Izuku first saw a patch of building and then the remains—from the front, he hadn't seen the destruction here where a fire had burned through. But next to the main building there was also a new structure, towering. It was just a skeleton of steel and cement, but Izuku saw the sturdy foundation, reaching up and up.

Kacchan lifted a hand over his eyes. "'S that…"

Toshinori turned and smiled at the both of them. "The dorms."

"Bit ugly, don't you think?"

Izuku laughed. " _Kacchan_."

He turned to inspect the construction. Right next to each other, the differences seemed staggering—on one side, the school was being repaired, but on the other, a new structure was being built.

Toshinori clasped his hands. "I have been the number one hero for a long time," he began, "and I've seen… many, many things. But my power is passed on now. My legacy."

He smiled at Izuku. "And now it was my turn to retire and see others surpass me. I'm going to continue as a teacher here, if you'll have me."

"We'll have you," Izuku said in a rush.

Kacchan rolled his eyes, but Izuku knew he was pleased.

"Before I started teaching I didn't fully grasp how important it was— to ask for help, to share my burden, to be seen by other people…" Toshinori's voice dipped, "...but my students taught me something, too. And I am so grateful for it, and I will never regret the events that took me here."

"All Might…" Kacchan's voice was shaky.

Toshinori chuckled, the sound deep in his chest. "I've talked enough about me, though." He looked behind him, towards U.A. "Do you know what I see?"

"Con… struction?"

"Some answer about the meaning of life," Kacchan muttered, sticking his hands in his pockets. He glanced at Izuku. "And also construction."

"Well," Toshinori said, and laughed again. The sound was familiar and warm. Izuku had missed it. "You're right, my boy. But… do you see it, too? The building was destroyed here, and the dorms are being built over there."

Kacchan stepped closer. Izuku could feel him, close, but not touching.

"Yeah…?" Izuku said slowly.

"What is burnt down can be rebuilt," Toshinori told them. A few figures working on the wall paused and waved. Toshinori waved back, and looked at the bones of the buildings. "And there is always ground to build something new."

He held out a hand, and Izuku stepped forward and took it. Toshinori slid his arm around Izuku's shoulders and leaned down to say, "My boy."

Toshinori studied Kacchan, then Izuku. "And… do you know what I see, when I look at the both of you?"

Izuku shook his head quietly.

"I— see the future," Toshinori admitted. "I see two heroes, and I want to watch you grow. I'm glad I will have that opportunity."

The sun shone, light washing over all of them. Izuku turned his face up towards the sky. Kacchan stepped in. All of them were smiling.

Toshinori's voice continued, a pleasant, constant sound. Izuku opened his chest and let the words into his heart.

"Whatever challenges we may face, whatever storm we must weather… every time I look at you I am promised tomorrow. And it's something I believe in."

"Tomorrow," Izuku murmured to himself, holding his hands up as if he could hold tomorrow in his hands. "There's so much still…"

There was fire, like the living breath of a dragon, and on the edge of the horizon Izuku saw a smudge of darkness, gathering. But spiraling up, surging forth, Izuku had lifted a set of dappled wings and risen, and the light was collecting now between his fingers. Real.

He stood still, blinking, and said, "I never thought I would ever— be here."

"You are," Kacchan said, Toshinori's voice overlapping as he said the same thing.

"Yes," Izuku said aloud. But he hadn't needed to hear it. He knew.

Somewhere, there was a smudged glass window. A careful knock against it. Somewhere pinned on the wall, a glimmering gold medal. Somewhere the sound of waves lapping against the shore, and a name that no longer existed.

It was over, but it was not, and tomorrow was only the start.

THE END. THE BEGINNING.


End file.
